TH 

LITTLE 

FORESTERS 

clar: 





Class 

Book__.. 
Copyright)] 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 




THE POUNDING CAME FROM AN OLD APPLE-TREE. 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Received 

JUL SO 1903 

a Copyught Entry 
CLASSO^ XXc. No. 
COPY B. 



QUll 



.w 



3« 



Copyright, 1903, 
By Thomas Y. Crowell & Company. 



Published September, IQ03. 



CONTENTS. 



Chapter Page 

I. Grandma's Winter Visitors . . 1 

II. The Trysting Tree '. 10 

III. A Life of Fear 20 

IV. The Galloping Hessian .... 25 
V. Chucky's Last Breakfast ... 33 

VI. How Cock-Robin saved his Family, 41 

VII. Frisk and Frolic ...... 53 

VIII. Billy Wilson's Box-Trap ... 59 

IX. The End of Black Lightning . . 80 

X. A Terrible Bide 101 

XI. The Good Green Wood .... 108 

XII. A Night with Ruff Grouse . . 115 

XIII. Bob's Revenge 128 

XIV. The Last Meeting 146 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Page 
The pounding came from an old apple-tree. 

Frontispiece 
An old cock partridge with big black ruffs and 

very pompous manners 5 * 

Bob sprang from point to point 18 

li CAW, CAW," CRIED NlMROD 35 

Chucky reared cautiously upon his hind legs . 38 

Cock-robin and Brownie fought bravely ... 46 

Frisk and Frolic 54 

What a cute little house it was ! 76 

" Who has done this ? " he hissed 97 

With a wild scream the hawk rose swiftly in 

THE AIR 105 

The quail is a merry fellow 110 

The partridge broke away and whirred over 

the tree-tops 123 

He would sit for an hour at a time on an old 

log 129 

He clutched the bars fiercely with his claws . 151 



THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 



CHAPTER I. 
grandma's winter visitors. 

Not all children are as fortunate in living 
near to their grandparents as we were, for it is 
not often that one can go to his grandmother's 
at any time of day in ten or fifteen minutes, 
but this was the fact in our case and we 
thought ourselves very lucky indeed. 

When we were tired of playing at home and 
longed for something different, we would go in 
and say, f? Mother, may we go up to grand- 
ma's?" To which mother would usually reply, 
"Yes, dears, if you will be good and do just as 
grandmother tells you, and will start for home 
before dark." Then there was a shout of joy 



2 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

and a clatter of small feet down the garden 
path and we were gone. 

The walk over to grandmother's was a never- 
ending source of delight. First, it led out 
through our own garden and into the orchard. 
What child who is country born does ntot re- 
call the old orchard with delight ? There are 
its straight rows of quaint trees, each different 
from the other and each having some peculiar 
limb, or hiding place under the roots that the 
other does not possess. If it is autumn there 
is the fruit, bright red and yellow, loading 
the limbs down even to breaking. If it is 
springtime, how sweet the air is with the scent 
of apple-blossoms, and how pleasant is the 
drowsy droning of the bees as they gather 
honey ! Down through the old orchard winds 
the path to grandmother's, until it is lost to 
sight in the beech woods. 

Here in the springtime are green, mossy 
knolls, where hepatica and partridge-berry 
love to hide, and tender young ferns and 
blood-root. Further on, beyond the woods, is 
a meadow where a little brook sings joyously 



GRANDMA'S WINTER VISITORS. 3 

all day long. What a temptation to sit long 
upon the plank bridge, dangling one's feet 
over the cool water, watching the minnows 
play hide-and-seek in its eddies or the gleam 
of sunlight upon the ever-changing ripples. 
But we must not loiter too long, for up through 
another orchard, as delightful even as our own, 
we can see the pleasant old farmhouse under 
the big elms. Although we cannot see her 
yet, we know that grandmother is standing 
there on the porch waiting to welcome us with 
a smile on her face and a cheery word. Then 
we know there will be an invitation to come in 
and see what grandmother has been baking-. 
It may be gingerbread or it may be cakss, but 
it is sure to be something o'ood. 

AYhen I go way back into the dim corners of 
my memory to those things that are almost 
forgotten, I am sure to see a kindly old woman 
with a cap and spectacles, and the sweetest 
kind of a smile. That is my grandmother, and 
a dearer old lady never lived, for although her 
years were many, yet her heart was always 
young and full of sweet sympathy for children. 



4 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

It was from her that we learned that most 
important lesson of being kind to animals, and 
particularly to birds and squirrels, of which she 
was very fond. In the winter time, when the 
storms came and the winds blew, and these 
little creatures were cold and hungry, it was 
her special delight to befriend them. w In the 
summer," she would say, "they can take care 
of themselves, but in the winter, when we are 
comfortably housed, we should think of them 
out in the cold." 

With these kind thoughts in her mind, 
grandmother would scatter grains of buckwheat 
and bread crumbs for the sparrows and the 
chickadees, and I would watch through the 
window while they hopped about on the snow 
picking up their breakfast. Then there was 
always a piece of meat nailed to a convenient post 
that the birds knew well. Many of them made 
their breakfast upon this half-frozen meat. 
There were chickadees and sparrows, wood- 
peckers and grosbeaks, snowbirds, and even 
an old crow came when very hungry, but he 
did not often venture so near the house. One 




AN OLD COCK PARTRIDGE WITH BIG BLACK RUFFS AND VERY 
POMPOUS MANNERS. 



GRANDMA'S WINTER VISITORS. 5 

night, just at dusk, I saw a curious looking 
white owl standing upon the post, making a 
late supper. 

But the strangest of all grandmother's 
feathered visitors, and one who is usually very 
wary, w r as an old cock partridge with big black 
ruffs and very pompous manners. This fine 
fellow would strut around with all the dignity 
of a turkey-cock, but he would fly away with a 
great noise at the slightest sound. Grandma 
said it was unusual for a partridge to venture 
so near the house and that there was a good 
reason for his coming. Several vears before 
she had found him, one day, by the roadside, 
stunned and nearly dead. She had carried 
him home in her hands and had cared for him, 
keeping him in a hencoop until he was well, 
when she had let him go. He had always re- 
membered this kindness and w T as occasionally 
seen near the house. Grandma said she knew 
him by the way he flew, one of his wings 
having been injured when she found him. 

But the cutest of all her winter pets was a 
pair of gray squirrels that I named Frisk and 



6 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

Frolic, from the manner in which they frisked 
and frolicked about, chasing each other up and 
down trees and along the top of the wall. 
Sometimes they would go scurrying up the 
big maple in front of the house until it made 
me dizzy to look at them, and then I would 
ask grandma if they would not fall, but they 
never did. 

The squirrels did not like the same things to 
eat that the birds did. Grandma always 
placed their breakfast upon the back porch so 
that I could watch them eat. It was great fun 
to see them stand upon their hind legs and 
turn a nut about in their forepaws and all the 
time keep their sharp teeth biting away at the 
shuck until the sweet meat was in sight, when 
they would eat it with great zest. Corn they 
were also fond of, and Frisk, the larger of the 
two squirrels, could carry off a whole ear at a 
time. This he always did when they started 
for the woods. Grandma said that he was 
taking it home for dinner, and of course 
grandma knew. 

One evening late in the autumn, our parents 



GRANDMA'S WINTER VISITORS. 7 

bein^ awav on a visit, we children were sitting 
about a fire in the open grate while grand- 
mother told us stories. It was quite cold for 
the time of year, and a hard hailstorm had 
come up. It was so cosey, though, in the warm 
room, and so pleasant to sit inside and hear the 
storm beating against the window-panes, that 
we were quite content with our lot. The 
stories had been discontinued for a few mo- 
ments that we might better enjoy the warmth 
and firelight, when in a lull of the storm we 
heard a sharp blow against the window glass. 
J? What is that ? " we children asked in astonish- 
ment, for it was strange enough that anything 
should be moving in such a storm. " I think 
it was a bird," replied grandmother ; M the 
poor thing has probably become bewildered by 
the storm, and, attracted by the light, sought 
shelter in the warm room." 

It seemed so out of place that anything 
should be out in the storm, and we asked so 
many questions about the birds : what they did 
during storms, what kind of a bird this one 
was, and was he hurt? that finally, to satisfy 



8 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

our anxious questions, grandma lighted the 
lantern and went out-of-doors to see what she 
could find. Presently she returned bringing a 
small, feathered object in her hand. 

It was a poor little sparrow who had not 
known the danger in the window glass and had 
dashed his head against the hard surface. Thus 
what had seemed to be an escape from the 
storm and a refuge had brought him low. He 
lay feebly fluttering in grandmother's hand, 
and we children all gathered around and 
lavished childish pity upon the poor little bird. 

When, a few moments after coming inside, 
with a feeble gasp and flutter the sparrow died, 
my little sister cried as though her heart would 
break, and my own sympathies were moved 
more than I cared to show, being a boy. I 
went to the kitchen for a drink of water that I 
might cover up my feelings. It was well 
enough for a girl to cry, but it w^ould never do 
for a boy. 

Grandmother wrapped the dead sparrow in 
a newspaper and put him upon the mantle- 
piece for the night, and the next day I dug his 



GRANDMA'S WINTER VISITORS. 9 

grave in the garden, and we buried him with all 
solemnity. 

It was a small affair, this death of a sparrow, 
and something that happens in every storm, 
but it has lingered in my mind ever since, and 
somehow, even to this very day, I cannot shake 
off the pathos of this little tragedy. First 
will come the picture of the storm beating out- 
side and the small bird fleeing before the sharp 
blows. Then, on the other hand, is the pict- 
ure of the warm room, cosey in the glow of 
firelight. The storm-tossed bird sees the 
warmth and light and flies toward it, only to 
dash out his life against the window glass. 

It is well that every child should learn 
early in life this lesson of the dead sparrow 
— then will he pity and protect the dumb 
creatures. Then will he see how man was set 
above the creatures of the fields and woods, 
not to destroy them, but to protect and en- 
courage them, and be mindful of their coming 
and going. And why should he not, since we 
are told that not a sparrow falleth to the 
ground unnoticed by our heavenly Father? 



CHAPTER II. 



THE TRYSTING TREE. 



The try sting tree was an ancient oak, 
standing in the centre of the forest, where the 
friendly birds, squirrels, and smaller creatures 
of the woods were in the habit of meeting each 
day. These meetings were held at about sun- 
rise and sunset, to gossip and talk over the 
happenings of the day before, or relate the ad- 
ventures of the night that had just passed, for 
living as they do in a world that is hostile to 
them, where they have the snares of larger 
animals and birds, as well as those of man, to 
avoid, it is not strange that many a thrilling 
adventure was related under the old trysting 
tree to an expectant group, each one of whom 
was silently thankful that it had not been he. 

Of the company that met at the oak I best 
remember the following : 

10 



THE TRY STING TREE. 11 

There was Mnirod, the crow, as black as a 
coal, who always sat in a watchful attitude 
upon the topmost bough of the oak, balancing 
himself nicely, and looking in every direction 
at once. 

He was the sentinel, and his vigilance de- 
livered the little people from many a danger. 
Ximrod was a natural sentinel, for his croak- 
ing made him none the less watchful, and he 
could carry on a flirtation with a saucy jay, 
winking; and blinking with one of his bright 
eyes, while he scanned the landscape with the 
other. But there was not very much to fear 
at this time of day ; the only enemy who would 
be likely to be about was Sparrowhawk, whose 
coming and going no one could account for. 
He was hated and feared by all the birds, as 
well as by the squirrels, for he not only killed 
to satisfy his hunger, but also for malice. He 
took a particular delight in robbing birds' nests, 
eating the eggs, and killing the young birds. 
So that all the birds were very careful, when 
building their nests, that Sparrowhawk was 
not around. 



12 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

Of the animals, cats, weasels, and foxes 
were the most to be feared, and it took the 
combined vigilance of all to scent these dan- 
gers. 

It was very strange, though, how quickly 
these little folks of the woods would completely 
disappear at a sound of warning from any one 
of their number, No matter how merrily they 
had been chattering away a minute before, at 
the warning note the woods would suddenly 
become as still as death. Mmrod would "rise 
high in air and fly away, Ruff-grouse would 
follow his lead on silent wings, while the jays 
and the squirrels would hide in the treetop. 
The chipmunk would slip into his hole at the 
foot of the tree, and the rabbit would squat 
under a bush, and being just the color of the 
ground, it took the sharpest eyes to discover 
him ; while Frisk and Frolic and their cousin 
Redder had a way of hiding that baffled all in- 
quiry. 

Each of these little creatures is possessed of 
an instinct that tells him just what is the best 
thing to do in time of danger, else how could 



THE TRYSTING TREE. 13 

they exist in a world in which they have so 
many enemies. 

The great sun that always brings so much 
gladness into the world was just mounting 
up over the eastern hills. His warm beams, 
falling upon the treetops, made bright patches 
of sunlight in the aisles of the sweet, green 
woods. Although the sun was very early in 
his coming, he was not ahead of the little peo- 
ple of the woods, who are very. thrifty and up 
betimes. For more than half an hour they had 
been stirring, and by the time he was quarter 
of an hour high they had all breakfasted and 
were ready for the morning meeting at the 
try sting tree. 

The squirrels had been away to a distant 
orchard for sweet apples ; the birds had found 
their usual number of worms and bugs by the 
roadside or in the mould beneath dead leaves 
and ferns, while Bob, the cotton-tail, had made 
a fine breakfast of birch twigs and wintero-reen 
leaves, of which he was very fond. 

Mmrod, who had made his meal from the 
cornfield, and had afterwards taken a bath at the 



14 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

brook, was as usual the first to arrive at the 
tree. He at once proceeded to call the others 
with a series of loud "caws," for which he was 
famous. Then there was such a pattering of 
small feet, for the squirrels came running in 
the treetops and the rabbits on the ground, 
each chattering and scolding away in his own 
language, all of which was understood bv each 
member of this great family. 

The last to arrive at the trysting tree was 
Chucky, who was so fat that he could scarcely 
waddle, and for that reason was usually late. 
"Hello, Chucky, hello," cried all the little 
folks in chorus, for Chucky was quite a favor- 
ite with them, and he amused them with his 
clumsy ways. 

"Well, Chucky, how are beans?" asked 
Nimrod, when the fat, lazy woodchuck had 
seated himself at the foot of the tree and Nimrod 
had declared the meeting open for discussion. 

"Firstrate, Nim, firstrate," replied Chucky, 
with a grunt of deep satisfaction ; " the only 
trouble is I have eaten so many that I can 
hardly walk." 



THE TRY STING TREE. 15 

n You are getting pretty free with the farm- 
er's beans, and I am afraid he will get after 
you again, one of these fine mornings, with his 
thunder stick," said the crow. " That was a 
very close shave that you had the other morn- 
ing, and if I had n't happened along he would 
have got you then." 

" Tell us about it, Nimrod, tell us about it ! " 
cried all the Little Foresters. 

r? Well," said the old crow, straightening 
himself with dignity, " it is n't very much of 
a story, but I do think that it adds another 
feather to the glory of the crow family. It 
was this way : 

" Chucky was down in the bean-patch getting 
his breakfast and I was sitting upon the top of 
the old maple in the mowing, when I happened 
to see the farmer coming down the road with 
the thunderstick over his arm. 

" ? Whom is he after now ? ' I thought to my- 
self, and then I looked down to the bean-patch 
and saw Chucky, and the meaning of the farm- 
er's early walk was plain. 

K How could I warn poor Chucky, that was 



16 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

the question. I knew that he was such a stupid 
fellow that he would not see or scent danger, 
and it looked very much as though his hide 
would be drying on the barn in another hour." 
At this point Nimrod looked seriously down 
at Chucky, whose hair stood up at the thought. 

r? Well," continued the crow, " if I was to 
fly down and tell him, I would get in range 
myself and be peppered for my pains. You 
people all know I do not like to have my 
feathers ruffled with big shot. Fortunately I 
thought of that member of our family who 
dropped the stones into the pitcher and raised 
the water until he could drink, so I set my wits 
to work. 

w Then I had a bright idea. I flopped down 
to the ground and picked up a big pebble ; 
then I rose high in the air and went sailing 
over the place where Chucky was eating beans. 
I knew I was out of reach of the thunderstick, 
and so I was not afraid. When I got just 
above Chucky I dropped the stone. He at 
once raised up on his hind legs to see what 
had disturbed him and saw the farmer and 



THE TRY STING TREE. 17 

started for his hole. ? Bang ! whang ! * went 
the thunderstick, but Chucky was so far away 
that it did no harm, and I tell you it didn't 
take him very long to get into his hole." 

Chucky felt very much like a hero when 
Nimrod had finished his story, and he grinned 
broadly, while the Little Foresters crowded 
round to tell him they were glad the farmer 
did n't get him. 

" Oh, well," said Chucky, in his easy-going 
way, " I guess " — but what he would have said 
we do not know, for at a warning note from 
Mmrod there was a whirring of wings and a 
patter of small feet, but none too soon, for 
with a scream a large hawk swooped into the 
top of the tree after his own morning breakfast 
which he was late in setting. 

The smaller birds and the squirrels fled away 
into the thickest treetops, and" of a sudden the 
forest became as still as death. Chatterbox, 
the red squirrel, was not three feet away in a 
hole in the tree, but Kedtail did not see him, 
and he could not have got him if he had, a fact 
the squirrel well knew, but he kept very still 



18 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

nevertheless. Eedtail glared savagely about 
him. The tree had been so full of fur and 
feathers a few moments ago, and where had it 
all gone ? 

Then he caught sight of Bob, the rabbit, 
squatting under a bunch of brakes, and darted 
down at him, and then a race began which 
would have been very comical had it not been 
a matter of life and death to one poor cotton- 
tail. 

Bob sprang from point to point, keeping in 
the underbrush all of the time and dodging- ]ik e 
a bounding ball. Again and again the great 
bird swooped for him and opened his terrible 
talons, and poor Bob barely escaped. Once he 
even got a claw full of the rabbit's fuzzy fur, 
and left a bad wound upon his back, but 
Bob did not care for wounds as long as his 
good, long legs were left with which to double 
and twist. 

Then Mmrod came to Bob's assistance. He 
darted at the hawk and pecked at him savagely, 
and all of the time he kept up a most deafen- 
ing cawing, partly to distract the hawk, and 




BOB SPRANG FROM POINT TO POINT. 



THE TRY STING TREE. 19 

partly to call his friends whom he knew were 
not for distant. 

Then Bob made a desperate spurt through an 
open place where he barely escaped from the 
talons of the hawk, and dove under a tangle of 
deep brambles and vines and was safe. 

" Caw, caw," cried Ximrod, derisively, "caw, 
caw." The hawk clenched his talons in fury 
and screamed back at Nimrod, and was about 
to fly at the brave crow, when he noticed sev- 
eral of Mmrod's friends coming through the 
woods, so he beat a hasty retreat and was soon 
lost in the distance. 

Bob then came out of the bramble and 
thanked Nimrod for the service that he had 
done him, and then scampered away to the 
swamp where he lived, feeling that he had had 
excitement enough for one day, and thanking 
good fortune that he had escaped. 



CHAPTER III. 



A LIFE OF FEAR. 



It is hard for us human beings, who live 
under the protection of the State and its laws, 
to realize the constant fear in which the Little 
People of the Forest live. 

No act of their lives, from the first days of 
responsibility to that of their violent death 
(for these wild creatures rarely die of old 
age) but is done guardedly. 

The very first law that the wild creature is 
taught is that of self-preservation ; in fact, his 
whole life resolves itself into the problem of 
just living and keeping clear of all his enemies. 

Watch a woodchuck as he gets his breakfast 
upon the young clover, and see with what 
caution the meal proceeds. He nibbles away 
at the tender heads for a few moments, and 
then rears cautiously upon his haunches and 

20 



A LIFE OF FEAR. 21 

looks about in all directions. He also sniffs 
the air suspiciously from the windward side, 
and takes even more care in the opposite 
direction. 

What need has he to be so cautious, you may 
ask. His pelt is worthless, and he cannot eat 
a dollar's worth of clover in a year. 

Well, in the first place there is a long gun 
that hangs in the kitchen over the fireplace 
up at the farmhouse. Chucky has often heard it 
roar on a summer's morning, and he carries 
many a small pellet in his tough hide that came 
from its grim barrel. It is only because the 
gun is old and rusty that Chucky is alive at all 
to whistle his defiance to the clumsy hunter. 

Then there is Grip, the farm dog. He and 
Chucky have been sworn enemies ever since 
that day when Grip tried to pull the wood- 
chuck from the wall and ^ot a savage bite in 
the nose for his pains. Grip was a puppy 
then, or that bite would have been Ckucky's 
last. 

Besides the farmer and the dog, there is sly 
Lord Eeynard, who wishes to catch Chucky 



22 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

alive and cany him home to his den for the 
young foxes to torment and finally tear to bits. 

Occasionally he finds the dirt in the mouth 
of his hole disturbed, and then he knows a trap 
is buried there, and if he steps upon the loose 
dirt that he will be caught, so he uses the back 
door or seeks another hole until the trap is 
removed. 

One of these summer mornings, when he is 
sleeping peacefully in his snug hole, a turtle, 
scorching and smelling hideously, will come 
scurrying in, trying vainly to get away from 
the burning cotton tied to the back part of his 
shell. This is a great peril for Chucky, — even 
if he is not suffocated by smoke, there is 
danger that his nest, which is lined with hay 
and leaves, will be set afire, and he be obliged 
to run straight into the open mouth of Grip, 
or if he escapes the dog there are eager boys 
ready to give chase with clubs, and poor 
Chucky with his short legs and fat body has 
small chance in such a match. 

But Chucky is no more in danger than the 
other Little Foresters ; in fact, he is full as safe 



A LIFE OF FEAR. 23 

as any of them, and is supposed to live a luxu- 
rious life, free from care and in the midst of 
plenty. 

Whistle at the rabbit who is hopping peace- 
fully along the woodland path, and see with 
what a startled air he rears upon his hind legs 
to listen. His ears are erect, his eyes large 
with fright, and his nostrils distended to catch 
the scent ; turning this way and that he tries to 
look in all directions at once, and when he 
does at last catch the scent, — that these little 
creatures fear above all others,— how he scur- 
ries away upon those nimble legs in which alone 
is safety ! 

Although he flees along the pathway like an 
arrow, yet he goes with caution. At the 
slightest sound he will squat under a bush and 
keep so still that even the eye of a woodsman 
is often deceived. The rabbit, by a kind pro- 
vision of nature, is always the color of the 
earth, so in the autumn he is brown like the 
fallen leaves, but in winter he is white as snow. 

M Who are the rabbits' enemies ? " I hear the 
young reader ask. 



24 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

Well, the domestic cat is crouching by the 
pathway just ahead of him waiting his coming. 
Redtail, the hawk, so far up in the sky that he 
is almost invisible to the eye of man, is watch- 
ing poor Bob, and if he gets out in the open he 
is down upon him. Grip, the farm dog, loves 
to give him a chase when he gets a chance. 
There is not much danger from Grip, who is 
not very sure on the scent or fleet of foot, but 
there is danger when fleeing from the dog that 
the cotton-tail will run into a snare, or be taken 
unawares by some other enemy. 

At night when he goes to sleep in his hole 
or a hollow tree, he knows not how soon the 
ferret may disturb him, and fleeing from this 
danger he will run into an open bag at the 
mouth of his hole. It matters not that it is 
against the law to hunt him with a ferret, for 
no one is by to see but the pale moon and the 
soft stars, when he is taken from the bag and 
his neck broken, and they tell no tales. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE GALLOPING HESSIAN. 

The Galloping Hessian was a red-crested 
woodpecker who lived for a long time in our 
orchard, and in whom I came to take a lively 
interest. 

You may wonder a little at the name I gave 
him, but it was one that pleased my childish 
fancy, and when I have explained its true sig- 
nificance I am sure that you will agree with 
me in thinking it most appropriate. 

Now all of the members of the woodpecker 
family, not only the red-crested woodpecker, 
but also his cousin, partridge woodpecker, and 
their more stylish cousin, the pilliated wood- 
pecker, have a peculiar motion in flying that 
gives the impression of a galloping horse. 
When they first spring from the tree to fly, 
they drop down fifteen or twenty feet, but 

25 



26 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

quickly rise to about the height from which 
they started and then across the fields they go, 
rising and falling in their flight, for all the world 
like a galloping horse. So upon a bright spring 
morning, when the sunbeams played upon his 
brilliant red crest, and set off his shiny black coat 
to good advantage, it was very easy to imagine 
that my woodpecker was a galloping Hessian. 

The first I ever saw of him was one warm 
April morning when I heard a great whacking 
out in the orchard, and I went to see w T hat it 
was all about. 

I soon discovered that the pounding came 
from an old apple-tree, and creeping cautiously 
along, I got a fine look at him before he saw 
me. 

He was standing upon a decayed limb from 
which the bark had been peeled by wind and 
weather, whacking away at it like the merry 
little woodchopper that he is. 

With his sharp claws dug into the wood, he 
stood bracing himself with his tail, which was 
spread out fan-shaped. This gave him a good 
purchase so that he could ply his short, sharp 



THE GALLOPING HESSIAN 27 

bill with terrible strokes. The chips came 
down in showers, and the sharp rat-a-tat-tat of 
his blows rang out upon the morning air with a 
great noise. So fast he struck that the eye 
could not follow the motion of his head, which 
seemed all the time to be in one place, while 
the blows were so near together that it sounded 
like the long roll upon a drum, done by a very 
skilful drummer boy. 

Why was he working away so frantically, I 
wondered ; but even while I asked myself the 
question, came the answer. For he stopped 
whacking and began examining the wood curi- 
ously, cocking his head first upon one side and 
then on the other. Then he gave two or three 
sharp whacks, and thrusting his bill deep into 
the wood drew out a fat worm which he ate 
with great relish. 

He had been after his breakfast. Who would 
have imagined that a bird would find his break- 
fast in a dry, dead limb, and how did he know 
that the worm was there? Why did he try 
the tree where it was dead ? While I was still 
trying to solve the mystery, he flew away and 



28 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

I saw him no more that day, nor for several 
days. 

But after a few days he came back and I saw 
him frequently at the old apple-tree ; we could 
even hear his merry rat-a-tat-tat from the house 
when he was getting his breakfast or supper. 

" Whack, whack, ping, ping, 
Other birds may chirp or sing ; 
But my one song is the merry stroke 
With which I pierce the elm or oak ; 
Away with chirping and with singing, 
While I set the echoes ringing." 

This was what the Galloping Hessian always 
seemed to be saying when he perched upon a 
dry limb and plied his short, strong bill. 

But more was going on in the old apple-tree 
than I dreamed of these spring days, for it 
must be a hungry bird indeed that would chop 
away for half a day at a time, although I did 
not stop to consider the fact. 

About a month after the first appearance of 
my little friend in the old apple-tree I saw him 
come flying, galloping as usual, across the 
fields and light upon this particular tree. J 



THE GALLOPING HESSIAN. 29 

looked again, but he was not there. I was 
wondering where he could have disappeared to, 
when of a sudden he appeared upon the dead 
limb, and even while I watched him he dis- 
appeared in the most peculiar manner. My 
astonishment was still greater when I dis- 
covered his head sticking out of a hole in the 
tree a few feet further up and his bright eyes 
seemed to be watching me. 

He had made him a house in the old apple-tree 
and come to live with us all the summer 
through. 

The next day I climbed up to investigate. 
It was a very tall apple-tree and my hair 
stood up as I looked down to the ground. 

There, just under the dead limb, the Gallop- 
ing Hessian had built himself and Mrs. Hessian 
the cutest house that you ever saw, proof 
against both the wind and rain, and almost 
anything that crawls, creeps, or flies. He had 
chopped a round hole about three inches in 
diameter in towards the centre of the tree for 
three or four inches, then it suddenly ran 
straight down for six inches more, and there 



30 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

at the bottom was the nest made of hair and 
bits of fuzz, very neat and comfortable 

One morning early in May, when the apple- 
blossoms were sweet upon the half-leaved trees, 
and the air seemed mild and warm, there came 
up a terrible wind-storm accompanied by hail 
and lightning. The sky grew suddenly dark, 
the wind howled frightfully, and the hailstones 
fell like bullets. The thunder rolled in one 
continuous cannonade, and the lightning was 
so bright that I dared not look out of the win- 
dow, but hid in the further corner of the room. 

Just before the storm came up I had seen 
Mr. and Mrs. Hessian flying home to their 
snug house. Something in the air or the sky 
had told them that it was coming. But the 
storm departed with the same haste that it had 
shown in coming, and the sun was soon shin- 
ing brightly, as though it had never gone under 
the clouds. 

Then, full of boyish curiosity as to what had 
been doing outside, I went out-of-doors. Fi- 
nally my wanderings led me to the old orchard, 
and then it was a natural thing to go to the 



THE GALLOPING HESSIAN. 31 

ancient apple-tree, for it was one of my favor- 
ite trees. 

I could hardly believe my eyes when I be- 
held it stretched upon the ground with many 
of its rotten limbs broken in the fall ; but my 
first thought was of the Galloping Hessian and 
his wife. I soon discovered them galloping 
wildly about the orchard, now lighting upon 
this tree and now that, and never staying long 
in a place, and always returning to their ruined 
home. 

I clambered into the top of the tree in search 
of the woodpeckers' nest. Just at the point 
where they had pierced the tree it had split in 
falling, and there upon the ground was the 
carefully shaped nest, with the broken eggs 
near by. No happening of after years has left 
a deeper impression upon my mind than has this 
tragedy of the Galloping Hessian. His home 
had seemed so secure from all danger, and here, 
in the twinkling of an eye, the whole fabric 
had fallen to earth, his dream and mine alike 
had vanished. 

While I sat upon the trunk of the fallen tree, 



32 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

the woodpeckers galloped about the orchard for 
the last time as though it was hard to leave ; 
they hovered a moment over the remains of 
their home, then galloped away over the fields, 
and were soon lost to sight. I stood up that 
I might see them as long as possible, but 
finally the rhythmic rise and fall of the red 
crests was lost to sight, and they were gone 
never to return to the scene of their sorrow. 

I wept bitter tears in the empty nest, and 
tried vainly to piece the broken eggs together, 
but the dream was ended and I had awakened 
to one of the stern realities of nature. 



CHAPTER V. 
chucky's last breakfast. 

It was a warm summer morning early in 
July, and the pale white streak that denotes 
the coming of daylight was just growing in the 
East. The sun would not be up for half an 
hour, but the birds and the squirrels were 
already stirring, for these little folks are very 
enterprising, and many of them are through 
breakfast when the sun comes up. 

Chucky was asleep down in his hole, dream- 
ing of sweet clover and tender new beans. It 
was cool and pleasant underground during 
these hot days, and that was why he ate break- 
fast very early in the morning and supper late 
in the evening, for he was a lazy fellow, and 
hated to bestir himself when it was hot. 

Presently he woke up, and although his nest 
was several feet under ground and very dark, 

33 



34 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

something told him that it was beginning to be 
light. There is a way animals have of telling 
certain things that they cannot hear, see, or 
smell. Birds and animals can foretell the com- 
ing of great storms or earthquakes, and man is 
often warned by them. 

When the miners who are digging deep down 
in the earth see the rats all leaving the mine, 
they hurry to get above the ground, for they 
know there is soon to be a terrible cave-in or 
explosion, and that the rats have scented dan- 
ger. We call this instinct, but it seems like a 
higher intelligence that we do not possess. If 
any of Chucky's friends had asked him " how 
he knew it was day when he could not see the 
light," he would have grunted and said, " he 
just knew and that was all." 

Chucky stretched himself, rolled about in 
his hole, to get the cramps out of his joints, 
and thoroughly wake himself. What a fat, 
sleepy woodchuck he was getting to be ! How 
he enjoyed this living in the clover, fattening 
himself at the farmer's expense ! As he thought 
of the fine row of beans he had stripped the 




'CAW, CAW," CRIED NlMROD. 



CHUCKY' S LAST BREAKFAST. 35 

morning before for breakfast, he grinned and 
chuckled. 

How lucky he was to have discovered this 
deserted hole two years before, and then to 
have grown up in such luxury as this ! He would 
stay here and eat beans and clover, and occa- 
sionally a turnip, as long as he lived. 

With these pleasant thoughts Chucky 
stretched himself again and then crawled laz- 
ily out of his hole. The sun still wanted fif- 
teen minutes of being up, and the air was 
deliciously fragrant. Chucky sniffed it with 
keen enjoyment. First on the windward side 
and then in the opposite direction. It was 
more difficult to discover a foe w T hen the wind 
was blowing his scent away from you, but 
finally he decided that the coast was clear and 
started gayly for the bean patch. 

"Caw, caw," cried Nimrod, from far above 
him. " It is a fine morning. I am going down 
to the river for a plunge, you had better come 
along and wash your greasy face." 

" Good luck to you," replied Chucky, with 
a shrill whistle that rang out loud and clear 



36 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

on the morning air. "I prefer beans to 
brooks." 

Chucky could hear Cock-robin singing in the 
big maple by the road, where he had built his 
nest this year. How pleasant the song he was 
singing ! It must be fine to sing like that for 
one's self whenever one wanted. Then for a vain 
moment Chucky wished that he was a bird, and 
could sing, but only for a moment. 

" Wheh-h-h-h," he cried with a long-drawn 
whistle. " I would much rather be a woodchuck, 
then one can have a hole to go into when he is 
frightened," and he trudged on after his break- 
fast. But he did wash his face some as he 
went, for the grass was soaking wet with dew. 
It was great fun to bring down showers of 
these bright drops, and smell the fragrance of 
the flowers as he stirred them. 

Soon he arrived at the bean patch, and be- 
gan his meal with all the zest of a boy who had 
done the chores and driven the cattle to past- 
ure before breakfast. 

Chucky's teeth were sharp, and the pods of 
the new string beans were very tender, and the 



CHUCKY'S LAST BREAKFAST. 37 

way he stripped the hills did him credit as a hun- 
gry woodchuck. Far away by the brook he 
could hear Nimrod's lusty " caw, caw," and at 
the same time there was the tinkle of a cow 
bell up the road. The sun had now risen in 
all his glory, and his coming had been heralded 
by the Little Foresters, with song and chatter ; 
the locust, too, was singing in the grass ; it 
would be a warm day, when he sang so early. 

Nimrod flew up from the brook-side, and 
perched upon an old oak in the pasture, that 
he might sun himself after his bath, and admire 
the glitter of his feathers, for he was very vain. 
From his high perch he could see Chucky 
in the bean patch, and he envied him his 
breakfast. Then looking over in the mow- 
ing next to the bean patch he saw something 
that made him quake with fear, for there, 
crouching behind the wall, thunder stick in 
hand, was the farmer. Mmrod fairly held his 
breath and his eyes grew big as he strained 
them to see what would happen next. The 
farmer peeped cautiously over the wall, but 
drew back quickly and raised the terrible 



38 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

thunderstick ; then Nimrod knew that Chucky 
was eating his last breakfast. He could not 
fly above him and warn him as he had done 
before, for the thunderstick would speak long 
before he could get there ; besides, he would put 
himself in range, and one crow was worth sev- 
eral woodchucks. But he could do one thing, 
so he raised his head, swelled out his breast, 
and sounded forth his well-known note of warn- 
ing. ?? Danger, danger, danger," it seemed to 
say, and the soft morning winds wafted the 
sound far across the fields. All the Little For- 
esters heard it, and hastened to shrink away 
into wall or treetop. Even Chucky heard it, 
busy as he was munching beans, and stopping, 
reared cautiously upon his hind legs and sniffed 
the air. This was the farmer's opportunity — a 
stream of fire leaped from the thunderstick, and 
its roar echoed over hill and valley. Chucky 's 
hide was tough and he carried many small pel- 
lets in it already, but the distance was short, 
and the farmer had aimed with care. 

Mmrod saw his friend give a big jump, 
tumble over and over in the beans, and then 




CHUCKV REARED CAUTIOUSLY UPON HIS HIND LEGS. 



CHUCKY' S LAST BREAKFAST. 39 

lie quite still. The farmer went up and poked 
poor Chucky with his foot. He was quite 
dead, so he lifted him by the hind leg and 
carried him away to the house. 

Nirnrod flew slowly toward the trysting tree, 
calling the Little Foresters as he went. There 
upon the topmost branch of the oak he sat, 
silent and sad. Soon they came flocking from 
field and forest, bush and brake, till all were 
assembled. " Good morning, Nimrod," they 
cried, but the crow made no answer. 

When the tree had become fairly alive with 
fur and feathers, Nimrod cleared his throat and 
asked, "Friends, are we all here?" 

Then a hush fell on the little company, and 
they looked at each other with eyes full of 
fear, for all had heard the thunder stick. Then 
grave old Bob, the cottontail, replied from his 
place at the foot of the tree, " No, my friend, 
we are not all here." All looked down at Bob, 
and saw that Chucky 's place by his side was 
vacant. 

"Where is Chucky?" they cried in chorus. 

" That is the question," replied the old crow, 



40 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

with great deliberation, f? where is Chucky?" 
Then he told in a few broken words what he 
had seen, and all went away into the woods to 
think it over and each to grieve after his own 
fashion. 

Chucky had been a silent little fellow, but 
they all liked hiro, they had always greeted 
him warmly when he waddled into the morning 
circle and took his place at the foot of the 
tree. 

Ah, well, it was the way they all went, the 
way of the forest, where no creature ever dies 
of old age. But their children would take 
their places, and the world would go on just 
the same. 



CHAPTER VI. 

HOW COCK-ROBIN SAVED HIS FAMILY. 

Feom the morning of our first acquaintance 
Cock-robin has ever been the cheeriest of 
birds, and as the bird family are noted for 
their good spirits, this is a very strong state- 
ment. 

It was the first of April, the morning sun 
was sending its bright rays into my chamber 
window, to shame me into wakefulness, but 
presently I was awakened by a perfect flood of 
the most bewitching bird-song. 

I started up, rubbed my eyes, and listened, 
but there was no mistaking the sound : Cheery, 
cheery, cheery, chirrup, chirrup, chirrup, and 
in the clearest, strongest notes that I had ever 
heard from a robin. 

It may be that the song seemed the sweeter 
and clearer because it was the first robin song 

41 



42 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

of the year ; but aside from that there was 
always a peculiar tenderness in the singing of 
Cock-robin that I have never heard equalled. 

I went to the window, and pulling the cur- 
tain aside a little, looked cautiously out, not 
wishing to disturb so welcome a friend, although 
I did want a glimpse of the performer. 

There he was upon the old elm, not ten feet 
from my window, and I stood very still lest I 
might disturb him. He was standing erect, 
with his red breast swelled to its utmost, and 
sinaino' as though he would burst if the sons* 
were stopped ; but no one wished to stop it. 

He was a fine specimen of the American 
robin. His ruffs were very marked, and his 
entire plumage was rich and warm in tone. All 
of this was in direct contradiction of the rule 
that the dullest colored birds are the sweetest 
singers, for he still poured out that delicious 
song. Presently he flew away to look for his 
breakfast, and it was as though a bit of heaven 
had departed. Then it was that I noticed a 
peculiar thing about him, by which I could 
always tell him from his fellows. When he 



HOW COCK-ROBIN SAVED HIS FAMILY. 43 

started from the elm, I thought that he was 
going to the cedar, but not so, for he turned 
and went ten feet to the west of it. "Ah, 
he is going to the driveway," I said, but this 
guess was too previous, for he swung still 
more to the west and fluttered down into the 
garden. "How queerly he flies," I thought; 
" perhaps one of his wings is shorter than the 
other." This I afterwards learned was the 
case, for he always flew tacking a little to the 
right, and his destiny was as hard to determine 
as to tell what a cross-eyed man is looking 
at. 

Cock-robin huns; about the buildings for 
several days after his first appearance. As he 
was so sweet a singer you may be sure that we 
encouraged him by throwing out bread crumbs 
and other dainties, and by not frightening him. 
After about a week he disappeared for several 
days, but finally one morning I heard him 
again. On going to the window I discovered 
that he was not alone, but perched upon the 
branch of the elm near him was a smaller 
robin, whom I guessed was a female. This 



44 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

guess proved to be the right one, for Cock- 
robin had been away courting, and had now 
brought home his wife, and together they were 
looking over the country and deciding where 
to build. 

We called the new-comer Brownie, from the 
dull color of her plumage, and in time grew to 
think quite as much of her as of Cock-robin 
himself. They finally decided to build in the 
elm, and late in April set to work upon the 
nest, and for about a week there was great 
activity in the robin family. They were con- 
tinually flying to and fro ; bringing straw and 
mud, and also bits of twine which I supplied to 
help along the good work. In about a week 
the house in the elm was ready for occupancy, 
and Brownie took possession and proceeded 
to lay five blue eggs. For the next few days 
Cock-robin sang and sang, and from the sweet- 
ness of his song I knew that Brownie was set- 
ting, and that he was singing, not for me, but 
for his little mate upon the nest. 

One afternoon early in May there came up a 
violent wind storm, and the great elm bent 



HOW COCK-ROBIN SAVED HIS FAMILY. 45 

and writhed and thrashed its long arms upon 
the roof of the house. When the winds had 
stopped blowing, and the rain and hail had 
ceased, so that small sounds could be heard, I 
discovered a great commotion in the family of 
Cock-robin. Cock-robin and Brownie were fly- 
ing to and fro, crying, " Quit, quit, quit," so I 
went out to investigate. The reason for their 
cries was not far distant, for there in the yard 
was the mud-house that they had builded with 
so much pains, and the eggs were all broken 
but two. I knew the robins would not use 
these eggs again, so I carried them into the 
house for a keepsake. 

But the robin is a cheery fellow, always 
ready to forget his grief, so Cock-robin and 
Brownie soon ceased their cries, and the very 
next day began building again in the elm in a 
more secure spot. 

Again the little mud-house was re-fashioned 
and more eggs were laid, and again Cock-robin 
sang for Brownie, but he could not help the 
rest of us hearing. 

After the young birds came he was very 



46 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

busy getting worms for them, so he did not 
have so much time for singing. 

One morning he was flying home to the 
house with an angleworm, when Sparrowhawk 
spied him. Now of all the birds that fly, Cock- 
robin most hated and feared Sparrowhawk, who 
is the cruellest and most vicious of all the 
hawks. Sparrowhawk kept very quiet until 
he saw where the robin went with the worm, 
and then followed as swift and as sure as death. 
Cock-robin and Brownie fought bravely, but 
they had to keep just out of his way to avoid 
being killed themselves, so finally they were 
driven from the nest, and Sparrowhawk pro- 
ceeded to eat up the nestlings before their very 
eyes. I arrived upon the scene just in time to 
see Sparrowhawk fly away, closely pursued by 
the two robins. 

Again despair reigned in the family of these 
much afflicted birds. We people, possessed of 
higher intelligence and less pluck, would prob- 
ably have given up at this point, but not so 
the robins. It was a long time before I could 
find their third nest, but finally I happened 




COCK-ROBIN AND BROWNIE FOUGHT BRAVELY. 



HOW COCK-ROBIN SAVED HIS FAMILY. 47 

upon it in the stump of an old apple-tree. 
"With one more mishap, narrowly averted by 
Cock-robin's pluck and presence of mind, a 
family was finally reared. 

It was nearly the middle of July when the 
family was hatched, and even then they had a 
narrow escape of which I was a distant witness. 

I had been down in the meadows one morn- 
ing trout-fishing, and was returning to the 
house, when I stopped to rest at a favorite 
seat under a maple in the pasture. I had been 
seated but a minute when I heard the distressed 
M quit, quit, quit " of a robin. At first I could 
not locate the cries, but finally I decided that 
they came from the old stump w r here Cock- 
robin lived, although it was nearly forty rods 
away. Usually I could not have heard a robin 
at that distance, but the morning was very 
clear, and what little breeze there was blew in 
my direction. 

To make sure I stood up, and by straining 
my sight could just see a robin flying wildly 
about the old stump, but no cause for the com- 
motion could I see. But it was very evident 



48 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

from the bird's rapid flight that something was 
the matter, so I resorted to the use of a small 
opera-glass that"I frequently carry for the study 
of birds. With the aid of the glass I could see 
the robin quite plainly. It was Brownie, and 
something was clearly the matter. There was 
also another robin coming like the flight of an 
arrow from the woods nearby, and by the cir- 
cular manner of its flight I knew that the second 
bird was Cock-robin. It was very strange. 
What could it all mean? Then I fell to ex- 
amining the old stump closely through my 
glass, and when I finally discovered the cause 
of all this commotion my astonishment was so 
great that the glass nearly fell from my hand. 

There upon the stump of the apple-tree, 
wriggling and writhing every minute nearer 
and nearer to the nest of young birds, was the 
hideous form of a huge, black snake, who was 
known among the Little Foresters as Black 
Lightning. 

I was so far away from the scene of this 
tragedy that I could do nothing, for the snake 
would reach the nest long before I could reach 



HOW COCK-ROBIN SAVED HIS FAMILY. 49 

the tree. I could merely stand where I was 
and see how it all ended. My sympathy was 
all that I could give the birds this time. 

Up, up crept the hideous writhing form of 
the snake, with Brownie darting at it and the 
snake striking at her every time she came near 
enough for a blow. Every second brought 
him nearer to the nest, and I could see no 
possible escape for the young birds. True, 
Cock-robin was coming like a brave knight- 
errant to their rescue, but what could he do 
against the ugly snake? 

Black Lightning had now wriggled his way 
up to within two or three feet of the nest. If 
Cock-robin is to do anything it must be done 
quickly, and as though in answer to my 
thought he shot into the circle swept by my 
glass. Straight up to the nest he flew, and 
hovered a moment over it almost within reach 
of the snake. He then drew back two or three 
rods, where both he and Brownie circled about 
watching the snake intently. He has given up 
the fight, I thought, and I was disappointed, 
for I had expected to see so valiant a bird make 



50 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

a brave stand for his nest and his young. Then 
the snake wriggled a foot or two nearer the 
nest and raised his ugly head for his prize, but 
instead of making a meal of the fledgelings, he 
suddenly began to wriggle about as though 
discomfited by something, and then to my 
groat astonishment he began to descend in 
haste, when a few feet from the ground he let 
go his hold and tumbled into the grass. 

I did not wait to see more, but made all haste 
across lots to the old stump to discover if 
possible how Cock-robin had foiled his enemy. 

When I reached the tree nothing was to be 
seen of the snake, and Cock-robin and his mate 
were twittering softly about the nest. 

" How in the world did you do it? " I asked, 
involuntarily speaking aloud, and as though in 
answer to my query, Cock-robin lifted some- 
thing from the nest and dropped it upon the 
ground at the foot of the tree. 

I stooped to examine it. It was a spray of 
three or four very bright green leaves of some 
plant that I was not familiar with, having a 
very rank odor. I picked the leaves up to 



HOW COCK-ROBIN SAVED HIS FAMILY. 51 

examine them more closely, but the sap from 
the broken end of the branch made my skin 
burn, and my eyes began to smart and water 
from looking at it, while a nausea like sea- 
sickness seized me. With a shudder I flung 
the poisonous plant away, and none too soon, 
for in two hours my hand was swollen bad]y 
and my eyes were nearly closed with inflam- 
mation. 

I searched all my books upon botany to 
identify the plant, but have never been able to 
do so. I am confident that it is not generally 
found in the temperate zone, but was some 
poisonous tropical plant, the seed of which had, 
by some strange chance, been dropped in our 
soil. But even so, it is still a mystery how 
Cock-robin knew where it was growing, and by 
what instinct he knew that it was poisonous to 
the snake. 

I had often read of like incidents in tropical 
countries, but had been doubtful of their truth, 
but here was a demonstration of it at my very 
door. 

After all, was it any more wonderful than a 



52 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

thousand things that we see and hear in the 
animal and plant life about us every day? 
Life without intelligence living intelligently, 
and small creatures without reason showing a 
deeper intelligence in many things than man. 

I am still pondering over these things, even 
as the poet Bryant wondered as he saw the 
wild goose taking its unerring flight through 
the trackless heavens without a compass, yet 
guided by some instinct or intelligence across 
a continent to the very inlet or bay, or even 
the nesting place, that it has left six months 
before. 

Note. The author has frequently seen it 
stated that the leaves of the white ash dropped 
upon a snake have a paralyzing effect. It is 
also said that some ground birds protect their 
nests by partially covering them with white 
ash leaves. 



CHAPTER VII. 



FRISK AND FROLIC. 



Frisk and Frolic were a beautiful pair of 
gray squirrels who lived in an old sugar 
orchard, where they had the most ideal home 
that a pair of squirrels ever possessed. 

In the first place the grove in which they 
lived is what is called " first growth " and very 
tall, and a gray squirrel will not demean him- 
self by living in small trees. He likes to be 
up in the world, wnere he can look down 
upon his fellow-creatures and get a good view 
of what is going on. And besides being tall 
trees, the old maples were full of sweet seeds 
in the early autumn. If you had gone into 
the woods any morning in October, and had 
sat very still under one of these great trees, 
you would soon have heard tiny bits of some- 
thing falling, and if you were a woodsman you 

53 



54 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

would at once know that the squirrels were at 
work. 

Then a little further on in the woods there 
was a hickory grove, and here in the autumn 
was a feast tha/t did the heart of a squirrel 
good just to look upon, for there among the 
leaves were walnuts, and what squirrel does 
not know the taste of a shagbark? But they 
did not usually eat them at once, but stored 
them away in the nest until winter came. 
Then when the winds howled outside, and the 
snow was deep upon the ground, and it was 
impossible to gather mast, thanks to his fore- 
thought the squirrel could sit comfortably in 
his hole, nibbling away at the sweet meat of 
the walnut. 

Still further on in the woods there was an 
occasional chestnut, and Frisk always made it 
a point to pick out a fine tree of these nuts 
and mark it for his own. Then some night, 
just at dusk, when something told him that 
there was to be a hard frost, he would go and 
drop down a bushel or two of burrs, the largest 
upon the tree, for a squirrel is very particular 




FRISK AND FROLIC. 



FRISK AND FROLIC. 55 

about his nuts, and always has the best that 
the tree affords. 

Then in the morning he would go to his 
tree and find that all had happened just as he 
expected, for there upon the ground would be 
his chestnut burrs all nicely opened by the 
frost. 

Some of my little readers may ask, How did 
Frisk know that there was to be a frost that 
night ? I shall have to answer that I do not 
understand how he knew, or how all the Little 
Foresters know a great many things that they 
do know. But it seems to be given them to 
understand many things that man does not, so 
that they may take advantage of them. 

There was also a fine apple orchard near 
the sugar camp, where Frisk and Frolic oc- 
casionally went for sweet apples ; but they 
did not like to venture so near the house. 
Besides, the apple orchard belonged to their 
noisy Cousin Redder, who delighted above all 
things to tease the gray cousins, and play 
pranks upon them. 

If Cousin Redder saw the gray squirrels in 



56 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

his apple orchard he would straightway set up 
such a chattering and scolding that they were 
soon glad to leave, although each usually car- 
ried away a sweet apple to the maple woods, 
where they could eat it in quiet. 

For all Cousin Redder is so noisy a chap, 
he is not a provident squirrel, as he never lays 
up any store for the winter, and often gets 
very hungry during the cold months. One 
winter he got so starved out that he would 
have died, had not Frolic taken pity on him 
and dropped down a few nuts each morning 
when he came to the foot of their tree to beg 
for his breakfast. This was very kind of the 
Grayers, and Cousin Redder was never so 
saucy after that, and did not object to their 
coming into his orchard the following summer. 

It was a pleasant sight to see Frisk and 
Frolic playing on an autumn morning in 
the tops of the great maples. Back and forth 
they would go, running in the very tops of 
the trees, leaping from limb to limb as easily 
and as gracefully as a bird moves in the air. 
They rarely lose their hold, for if they cannot 



FRISK AND FROLIC. 57 

catch by their feet they will grasp the limb 
with their teeth. If they do happen to fall, 
they spread out as flat as possible, and come 
down through the air almost as slowly as a 
leaf, and the alighting does not seem to bother 
them at all. For sheer sport I have often 
seen them jump from the top of a tall tree to 
the base of another tree, forty or fifty feet 
away, I do not think if he were put to it 
that a squirrel would hesitate to jump from the 
top of a church steeple, although it makes us 
shudder to think of such a thing. 

But God has made these little fellows for 
running and jumping, and he taught them how 
to do it when he put the first pair in the tree- 
tops. 

The happiest morning in all the year for 
the squirrel family is that when the baby 
squirrels come. Then Frisk and Frolic cease 
their chattering and playing and go soberly 
about their business, for they have more im- 
portant matters to attend to. The babies are 
such helpless little mites that it takes all of 
Frolic's time to cuddle them in the nest and 



58 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

keep them warm, and Frisk is very busy pro- 
viding breakfast and supper for his family. 
But as the summer days come and go the baby 
squirrels grow strong until they can roll and 
tumble about the nest. Finally they even go 
away into the tree-tops to learn of their parents 
the art of running and jumping, which is a 
squirrel's greatest delight. 

But a squirrel's life is not all joy, for they 
have their trials and tribulations as well as all 
things that live, and they must be ever on the 
lookout or in some unguarded moment some- 
thing will do them harm. There is Redtail, 
the great hawk, who lives in the sky. There 
is nothing that he likes better for breakfast 
than a fat squirrel , and there is no accounting 
for his coming and going. 



CHAPTER VIII. 
billy wilsox's box trap. 

Oxe rainy clay while Billy Wilson was play- 
ing in the garret, where there were so many 
wonderful things and always something new, 
he found a queer box that he had never seen 
before. It had a sort of door, or cover, that 
lifted up by a string running to the back of 
the box, where a stick was stuck through a 
hole inside. For a while he amused himself 
by lifting the door and letting it down with a 
loud bang. 

Finally he took the box downstairs to his 
grandfather to ask what it was, for grand- 
father knew everything and was always ready 
to answer questions. Billy had always claimed 
that a grandfather was the next best thins; in 
the world to a Shetland pony. 

" Grandpa," he cried, all excitement, run- 

59 



60 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

ning into the old man's room with the strange 
house under his arm, "I have just found the 
queerest kind of a house with a funny door 
that is not like a door at all. What do you 
think it is, grandpa? " 

Grandpa took his spectacles from his pocket 
and put them on, for his eyesight was poor 
and he could not tell a wheelbarrow from a 
wagon without his specs. 

"Why, Willie, " he said, "you have found 
the old box trap. I have caught many a 
squirrel in it in my day. It is one that I 
made when I was a boy." Then he showed 
Willie how to pass the string over the end of 
the box and catch the small stick at the end 
of the string in a slit in the spindle. They 
then fastened a part of an ear of corn to the 
spindle inside the little house, and the trap was 
baited and set. " Now, Willie," said grandpa, 
" you take a stick and touch the corn and see 
what will happen." Willie did as he was told, 
and to his great astonishment the door of the 
box dropped suddenly and caught the stick. 

That afternoon when it had stopped raining, 



BILLY WILSON'S BOX TRAP. 61 

Bill}' took the funny little house under his arm 
and started for the orchard where he had de- 
cided would be the best place to catch a 
squirrel. 

He found a smooth stone upon the top of the 
wall where the trap would rest firmly, and 
here he placed it with the door pointing tow- 
ards the woods. He carefully baited it with 
an ear of corn, then sat down at a distance to 
see what happened, for Billy expected that a 
squirrel would come along and be caught at 
once. 

He amused himself for a long time munch- 
ing apples and watching the trap, but as no 
squirrel appeared, he finally went home, where 
he found his particular friend, Frank Snow, 
waiting for him. Frank had come over to see 
the new swing that Billy's father had put up 
for him the day before in the big elm. It was 
the best swing in the neighborhood, and the 
boys were all eager to try it. So Billy and 
Frank amused themselves for a Ions: time with 
the swing, and when they were tired of swing- 
ing they went to the barn where the mows 



62 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

were filled with new hay. What country boy 
does not like to play upon a new haymow? 
The hay is so fragrant, the mow so soft and 
springy, and it is such fun to jump from the 
big beams. Frank and Billy had such a fine 
play that afternoon that Billy forgot all about 
his box trap, nor did he remember it even in 
the evening. 

That night when Billy came to the supper 
table, to his great delight he found a crisp new 
mince pie looking smilingly up at him, and 
his mouth watered at the thought of its deli- 
cious contents of raisins, currants, and pre- 
serves. 

Billy never knew where his first piece of 
pie went to, it disappeared so quickly, and he 
passed his plate for another. 

w I am afraid it will not be good for you,' 5 
said his mother. "It is very rich and may 
give you bad dreams." 

"Oh, no, it won't, mother," cried Billy; "I 
know it won't, will it, pa?" Billy knew that 
his father was more apt to indulge him than 



BILLY WILSON'S BOX TRAP. 63 

his mother, so he always appealed to him at 
such times. 

Billy held up his plate so beseechingly and 
his father put in a plea for him, so that he got 
a second piece of mince pie. 

That night when he lay in his little bed 
watching the moon through the window, he 
thought of his box trap and wondered how he 
could have so long forgotten it. " I hope I '11 
have a squirrel in the morning," he said to him- 
self, and with these words he fell asleep. 

The next thing Billy remembered he was 
walking in a beautiful wood. It was summer 
time, birds were singing and everything was 
more beautiful than he had ever seen it before. 

He walked on for a long time through the 
shady avenues, admiring the flowers and listen- 
ing to the bird songs. Presently he strolled 
under a great oak, where to his astonishment 
he found the cutest little house that he had 
ever seen in all his life. 

There were four or five windows and one 
door, which was open wide. Billy went in and 
sat down in a little chair w T hich fitted his size 



64 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

so well that he thought it must be made for 
him. 

Upon the floor there was a fine carpet, and 
at the further end of the house was a table 
with dishes on it, but they were covered over 
with a spread, so that Billy could not see what 
was there. He went and lifted up the spread 
and peeked under, and what he saw made him 
shout with delight, for the table was covered 
with goodies, pies, cakes, and doughnuts, 
and in the middle of the table was a big basket 
of candy. 

Then Billy remembered that he was terribly 
hungry. Why, it seemed to him that he had 
never been so hungry before in all his life, so 
he sat down and began to eat. Pies and cake 
disappeared as though by magic, until there 
was nothing left but the basket of candy. 

Then Billy reached for that, but he no sooner 
touched the handle of the basket than there 
was a loud bang that made him jump up and 
look around ; to his great astonishment he found 
that the door by which he had entered had 
shut. This did not trouble him much, though, 



BILLY WILSON'S BOX TRAP. 65 

at first. When he wanted to go out he would 
open it, for who ever heard of a door that 
would shut and not open, so he sat down 
again and began eating the candy, but it did 
not taste as good as he had expected, so he 
stopped and went to examine the door. 

He looked it over from top to bottom, but 
could find no knob or latch. Then he pushed 
upon it, gently at first, and then with all his 
might, but it would not give an inch. It was 
very strange ; Billy began to grow uneasy and 
turned his attention to the windows. These 
he found to his surprise were covered with 
iron bars. It was queer he had not noticed 
it before, but he had been so greedy that he 
had seen little except the pies and cakes. 

Then he began to get uneasy, and walked 
up and down, trying first the door and then a 
window, but both were quite tight. There 
was the basket of candy which he had hardly 
touched, but he had no appetite for it, or for 
anything else. He could not stay still. It 
was so lonesome and so quiet in the little 
house. Perhaps the door would open in a few 



66 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

minutes and he would go home to his folks. 
At the thought of home and parents, Billy's 
lip quivered, — he might never see them again. 
Perhaps it was a bear's house into which he 
had walked, and they would soon be home and 
eat him. At the thought of such possibilities 
he began walking up and down very fast, strik- 
ing and kicking at the door and shouting for 
help. 

"Papa, papa; mother, mother," he cried, 
" come and get me, I am caught in a terrible 
house and cannot get out." 

The more he cried and pounded the more 
frightened he became. He shook the bars of 
the windows and bit them with his teeth, until 
at last he fell down exhausted. 

Then he heard a noise like the sound of a 
great army marching. Tramp, tramp, tramp, 
it went, and the ground shook with each step. 
Billy climbed up quickly to one of the win- 
dows and peeked out, but what he saw made 
him nearly lose his hold and fall to the floor, 
for coming through the woods was a giant as 
tall as the tallest tree, and every time he 



BILLY WILSON'S BOX TRAP. 67 

stepped, the ground trembled. Presently he 
began to sing, and the sound of his voice was 
like the heaviest thunder. 

" I am the giant who lives in the woods, 
Far np the mountain side. 
When the people hear me they hasten away, 
And all in their houses hide. 

" I live upon cattle, on cattle and corn, 
I eat up a heifer each day. 
When I am thirsty I drink in the stream, 
I '11 drink up the river some day." 

Here the song ceased, but Billy could hear 
the echoes of it rolling away over the hills like 
distant thunder. The tread of the giant was 
growing louder, Billy's hair stood up and his 
teeth knocked together. 

He dared not peek out of the window lest 
he should see the giant's terrible face and die 
of fright, so he crouched down in a corner and 
waited. 

Tramp, tramp, tramp, came the great feet 
of the giant, right up to the little house, and 
then to his terror Billy felt the house lifted up 
and set in the top of a tree. Then the door 



G8 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

was raised a very little and Billy could not 
help looking up. 

The giant's face was covered with whiskers, 
but Billy could see two eyes like great red 
lanterns, and a double row of teeth that were 
so large they made cold shivers run down his 
back, and his breath nearly left him he was so 
frightened. 

" Oho," roared the giant, " I have got you 
at last, you little rogue, and ain't you cun- 
ning? I'll take you home and the children 
shall have you to play with. 

" You did not know what a box trap was, 
did you? You thought it was a little house," 
and the giant laughed until the woods rang;. 
He then lifted the house upon his shoulders 
and Billy felt himself borne swiftly away over 
the tree-tops to an unknown land. 

The giant took such long steps that it jounced 
the little house on his shoulder, and Billy 
tumbled about in a most uncomfortable man- 
ner, but he did not mind this, for his mind was 
filled with awful forebodings as to what the giant 
would do with him when he reached home. 



BILLY WILSON'S BOX TRAP. 69 

He had read of giants who even ate boys, and he 
thought perhaps this might be one of the hungry 
kind. By-and-by he could hear water splash- 
ing every time the giant stepped, and he 
thought they must be crossing a river, which 
was the case. After they had crossed, the 
giant began climbing a very steep mountain, 
and here he occasionally stopped to rest. 
Once he stopped to get himself a cane which 
he made from a small tree about a foot through 
and twenty feet long ; this he dug into the 
ground to help himself along as he climbed the 
mountain. 

By-and-by he stopped in front of a great 
hole or cave in the side of the mountain, and 
thumped upon a tree trunk with his cane until 
the woods rang with the blows. " Mehitable," 
he thundered in his terrible voice, M I am here, 
come out and see what I have caught in the 
box trap." Pretty soon a giantess, nearly as 
large as the giant, came out bringing the baby 
in her arms. The giant baby was crying, and 
the noise he made w^as as loud as the bellowing 



70 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

of a bull. It made Billy's ears ache to hear 
him, but the mother did not seem to mind it. 

Then the giant opened the door of the box 
trap and the giantess peeped in. Her face 
did not scare Billy as the giant's did, for it was 
not all whiskers, but it was enough to terrify 
a small boy. 

" Take him out, Thunderbolt," said the 
giantess, M and let me see him." Then the 
giant reached in his great hand and took Billy 
out, nearly smothering him in so doing. Billy 
was awfully frightened to have the giant touch 
him, for his hand was so strong that he was 
afraid he would crush him before he thought, 
even if he did not mean to do him harm. 

"My, ain't he pretty?" said the giantess; 
" see how he trembles. I guess he is scared to 
death. But won't he be a cute little thing for 
the baby to play with? You don't suppose 
that he would bite him, do you, Thunderbolt? " 

" He had better not," roared Thunderbolt, in 
tones like the deepest thunder; " if he does, I 
will drop him into the soup kettle some fine 



BILLY WILSON'S BOX TRAP. 71 

Presently the baby reached out his hand, and 
the giantess gave him Billy to hold. The 
baby was as strong as an ordinary man, and 
he held Billy so tight that he nearly squeeezed 
his breath out. He would have kicked the 
baby if he had dared. Then the little giant 
put Billy's head in his mouth and almost smoth- 
ered him, but the giantess came to the rescue 
and put him back in the little house. 

Then the giant and his family all went into 
the cave and had dinner. When they had 
finished, they brought out some for Billy — a 
whole ham, half a bushel of potatoes, and a 
pie as big as a washtub. Billy was so tired 
and scared that he was not hungry, but he did 
not dare to refuse to eat, so he tried two or 
three potatoes and a bit of the ham. 

The giant family watched while he was eat- 
ing, and the baby kept reaching for him through 
the windows of the house. After the giant 
family had got tired of handling him, during 
which Billy thought that all of his bones would 
be broken, they left him in the box trap and 
went in for a nap. Soon he heard them all 



72 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

snoring, making a noise like the howling of 
the wind. 

Although he was very tired, Billy could not 
sleep. What would become of him in this 
awful land? He could not get out of the 
box trap, and even if he did, he could never 
find his way back home, or get across the deep 
river the giant had waded. If he ran away 
they would pursue him and bring him back, 
then he would be put in the soup kettle, or 
worse, they might eat him alive. His hair 
stood up with fright as he recalled these words 
in " Jack the Giant Killer " : " Fe, fi, fo, fum, I 
smell the blood of an Englishman ; be he alive 
or be he dead, I '11 grind his bones to make 
me bread." 

These giants must eat boys as well as those 
in the days of Jack, and that would probably 
be his end. 

Then he thought of his folks, but could £et 
little comfort. They never could find him in 
this horrible country, and even if they did, his 
father could do nothing with the giant, who 
would eat them all. 



BILLY WILSON'S BOX TRAP. 73 

Billy crawled away into one corner of the 
little house and began to cry softly. He did 
not dare to cry aloud, for he was afraid of wak- 
ing the giant family. But the baby heard him 
and came creeping out to see what the noise 
was. Billy at once stopped crying when he 
saw him looking at him, and sat up straight. 
Then the baby began to talk to him, but he 
could not understand. 

When the giant baby had looked at Billy 
for awhile, he began tumbling; the little house 
about to amuse himself. Over and over it went ; 
and Billy rolled about inside, bumping his head 
in a most unpleasant manner. Further and 
further along the mountainside the baby rolled 
the little house, and Billy saw to his horror 
that they were nearing a precipice, the bottom 
of which he could hardly see. He screamed 
for help, but his voice sounded like a mere 
squeak after that of the giants who were now 
sleeping and did not hear him. Nearer and 
nearer to the precipice came the little house 
until it was on the brink. Billy shut his eyes 
and stopped screaming. Then the baby gave 



74 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

it a push and Billy felt himself falling. Down, 
down he went, at last he struck with a terrific 
bang that brought his teeth together with a 
snap. 

Then he sat up and rubbed his eyes, and to 
his oreat astonishment found himself sitting 
on the floor beside his own bed, with the moon- 
light streaming in at the window, just as when 
he fell asleep. 

He rubbed his eyes again and pinched him- 
self to make sure that he was not still asleep, 
but it hurt, so he knew he was awake. 

Then he got up and wiped the sweat from 
his forehead and peeked out of the window. 
There in the yard was the great elm and the 
new swing that his father had made for him 
the day before. There was no dream about 
that, he was safe at home in his own room and 
it was still night. The box trap and the giants 
had all been a bad dream, and with a sigh of 
relief he got back into bed, where he slept 
soundly until morning. 

When he did awake it was broad daylight. 
The morning sun was streaming in at the bed- 



BILLY WILSON'S BOX TRAP. 75 

room window, and the robin and oriole were 
singing as though their throats would split. 

Billy dressed hurriedly and went down to 
breakfast. At the table he was so quiet and 
thoughtful his mother thought he must be sick, 
but on seeing his rosy cheeks she concluded 
he was quite well. 

As soon as breakfast was over, Billy put on 
his cap, and telling his mother he was going 
to the orchard, was off, running as fast as his 
legs could carry him. 

While Billy is on his way to the orchard, 
let us return to his box trap and see what has 
been happening there. 

Early in the afternoon of the previous day, 
Frisk, the gray squirrel who lived in the sugar 
orchard, near the apple orchard, said "good- 
by" to Frolic and his baby squirrels, and 
started for the orchard in search of sweet apples 
for his family. Frolic left the babies just long 
enough to go with him to the edge of the maple 
grove. "Now take good care of yourself," 
she said, as he dashed away towards the wall 
where Billy's box trap was set. Frisk chat- 



70 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

terecl back gayly to his mate as he jumped 
from stone to stone and finally disappeared 
in the distance, and Frolic went back to the 
baby squirrels in the tree. 

Frisk was running so rapidly along the wall 
that he did not notice the little house until he 
was almost upon it. Then he stopped sud- 
denly, almost in front of the door. 

What a cute little house it was, just large 
enough for a squirrel, and there was a fine ear 
of corn inside. 

It was very strange, he thought, as he cocked 
his head upon one side and peeked into the 
door, that any one should have left their house 
in this way on the wall, and also that they left 
the ear of corn inside. Frisk had heard of 
traps, but as he was a young squirrel had never 
seen one. He did not think this could be a 
trap, it was more like a squirrel house. 

Perhaps it was one that some good person 
had built especially for his family. He stepped 
one paw into the house and then stopped, but 
the ear of corn was so tempting that he could 
not resist the temptation to go in. They had 




WHAT A CUTE LITTLE HOUSE IT WAS. 



BILLY WILSON'S BOX TRAP. 77 

not had any corn since the winter supply gave 
out two months ago. How good it would 
taste ; but he would not eat it himself, he would 
carry it home to his Frolic. 

So he took hold of the ear and pulled gently, 
but it seemed to be fastened and he pulled 
harder, then the door of the little house came 
down with a bang, and Frisk knew that it was 
a trap and he was caught. He never would 
see Frolic or the baby squirrels again. 

We have seen how Billy felt when he thought 
he was caught in a box trap, and squirrels feel 
much as folks do in like places, so we will not 
dwell upon the terrors of the poor gray squirrel 
that night in the box trap, but will pass on to 
the morning when Billy went out to the orchard 
to see his box trap. 

As he neared the old apple-tree his heart 
beat fast with excitement. But when he saw 
that the trap had been sprung, his face fell, he 
had hoped there would be nothing in the trap, 
for he intended to carry it home and put it 
away in the garret. 

Billy tiptoed up to the trap and peeked in, 



78 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

and there in one corner, trembling with fear, 
and with eyes big with fright, he beheld a 
beautiful gray squirrel. The inside of the trap 
was strewn with bits of wood that the squirrel 
had gnawed from its sides in his efforts to 
escape, and his jaws were bloody from gnawing. 

" Ain't he a beauty," thought Billy. M How 
I would like to keep him in a cage and have 
him to look at." Then he thought of his own 
experience the night before, and wavered. 
But it was only for a moment, his better self 
conquered. Then with a quick motion, as 
though he dared not trust himself to consider, 
he lifted the door of the trap. With a grate- 
ful chatter and a patter of small feet upon the 
wall, Frisk was gone to the maple grove, and 
he did not waste many moments in getting 
home to Frolic and his baby squirrels. 

Billy shouldered the box trap and trotted 
home with it, feeling very happy and glad that 
he had let the squirrel go. 

" Ho, ho," said grandpa, when he saw Billy 
coming ; " so you are tired of trapping, are 
you?" 



BILLY WILSON'S BOX TRAP. 79 

"No," said Billy ; " I caught a gray squirrel, 
but I thought it was too bad to keep him in a 
cage when he wanted to be free, so I let him 
go." 

w Well, I guess that is the best way," said 
grandpa, trying hard not to laugh at the boy's 
sober, disappointed face. "You put up the 
trap and come into the woodshed and I will 
make you a new kite ; " and grandpa made the 
tallest kite that Billy had ever seen. 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE END OF BLACK LIGHTNING. 

Black Lightning was a terrible black snake 
that inhabited the woods where the Little Fores- 
ters dwelt. Each spring he would make his 
appearance in May or June, and then he 
would prowl about the woods and along the 
sunny roadway until late in October, when he 
would den up and sleep until spring. 

Of all who dwelt in the forest, Black Light- 
ning was most feared by the Little Foresters 
next to Sneak, the weasel. He was so cun- 
ning and so full of tricks with which to entrap 
them. He was always lying in wait by the 
pathways that they best loved to use, and his 
coming was so still that no one was safe from 
him. 

He was not even contented with ^lidins; 
about upon the ground, doing what mischief 

80 



THE END OF BLACK LIGHTNING. 81 

he could there, but even took to the tree-tops 
when he was uncommonly hungry. Here he 
would lie in the foliage, coiled upon a branch 
in such a way that no one could see him until 
an unsuspecting squirrel or bird came his way, 
when his ugly head w r ould dart out and grab 
the unfortunate one. When he had squeezed 
the life out of it, he would drop the victim to 
the ground and crawl down and eat it at his 
leisure. 

Black Lightning was not even bold and dar- 
ing like Sparrowhawk, but he would steal 
about, poking his head under old stumps and 
in hollow logs, that he might find a nest of 
baby rabbits, or some young birds to devour. 
If the mother and father were gone, he would 
at once fall upon the helpless ones and eat 
them. Once Bob caught him just as he was 
about to make a breakfast upon his baby rab- 
bits ; and a severe drubbing he £ave him, strik- 
ing him again and again with his hind paws — 
with which the rabbit fights — until the old 
coward was glad to glide away in the grass and 
nurse his wounds. 



82 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

Like Sneak, Black Lightning had no friends 
in the forest, so that when he was run over by 
a w T agon and his back nearly broken, no one 
was sorry and they all said it was a pity that 
he did not die. 

It was the latter part of June, and so pleas- 
ant in the woods that the birds and squirrels 
were always singing and chattering about it. 
I imagine they were afraid that man, who is so 
busy with farming and building, would not 
notice how sweet the air was and how fair the 
flowers, so they were continually telling him, 
lest he should forget. 

Black Lightning had been out for at least 
two weeks, and as he was always very hungry 
when he first appeared, he had been especially 
annoying to the birds and squirrels. No morn- 
ing had passed at the trysting tree without 
some account of his terrible doings. He had 
found Brownbird's nest hidden in the grass by 
a pathway, and had devoured three fledgelings 
that were just hatched. He had robbed nests 
of eggs by the dozen, and Cock-robin's own 
family had narrowly escaped being devoured. 



THE END OF BLACK LIGHTNING. 83 

He had even been in the tree-tops, search- 
ing for nests and young birds. The birds and 
the squirrels considered that the trees belonged 
to them. Black Lightning was bad enough 
when he kept to the ground, but when he even 
came into the trees it was too much to bear, 
and so wathgood reason the indignation against 
the snake grew, until one morning Nimrod 
called a meeting especially to consider the case, 
and see if something could not be done to rid 
the forest of this monster. 

Either Redtail or Danger, the great white 
owl, might have killed the snake for them, but 
both were enemies of the birds and squirrels, 
so help was not likely to come from that 
quarter, unless the owl or the hawk should 
find him some day asleep and carry him off of 
their own accord. 

One would never have guessed from the 
brightness of the sun, or the fragrance of June 
roses, that the Little Foresters were so sorely 
tried by the ravenous snake. Nor would he 
have guessed it, had he seen the birds and 
squirrels as they assembled at the old oak, for 



84 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

they sang and chattered in their old merry 
manner. 

Finally Nimrod came sailing over the tops 
of the trees in that majestic way he had, and 
lighted on his usual perch, which was the top- 
most bough of the tree. 

Then, after the morning salutations had been 
exchanged, in a few well chosen words, he 
explained the particular business before the 
meeting, and asked if any one had any plan for 
the entrapping or the killing of Black Light- 
ning. 

Frisk, the gray squirrel, thought that Bob, 
the old rabbit, might be appointed by the 
chairman to do the job, at which Bob looked 
anxious and thought that some one else might 
be found who could do it better. 

It was one thing to attack the snake when 
he was about to devour his family, but quite 
another to go after him and slay him when 
there was no family to inspire one. 

" Of course, no bird can attempt it," said 
Cock-robin, to which the thrush, the jay, the 



THE END OF BLACK LIGHTNING. 85 

sparrow, the bobolink, the phoebe, and a score 
of others all assented with chirp and twitter. 

ff I don't see how a squirrel can do it, either/' 
exclaimed Redder, who always gave his opin- 
ion whether it was asked or not. 

This time, however, his opinion was echoed 
by Grayer, Chipmunk, and their sleepy cousin, 
Flyer ; so that settled it as far as the squirrel 
family was concerned. 

The old crow looked down at his followers 
and chuckled. It amused him very much to 
see how willing each one was that some one 
else should attack the snake, and how reluctant 
each was to do it himself. It was a fine study 
of the willingness of people to put others in 
positions where they would not want to be 
themselves. 

:? Well," said Nimrod at last, r 'Ido not see 
but what we shall have to get the field mouse 
to kill Black Lightning; for us. Friend Field- 
mouse is not present this morning and so cannot 
object ;" and the old crow chuckled again and 
looked down scornfully at his followers, who 
felt ashamed. 



86 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

" I move that we hear from our wise chair- 
man upon the subject. His words are always 
full of wisdom," said Bob, the cottontail, from 
his position at the foot of the tree. 

w Good ! Good ! " cried all the little people, 
with chirrup and chatter. 

Mmrod straightened himself and looked 
down in a dignified manner at bird, squirrel, 
and rabbit. It greatly flattered and pleased 
him to be well spoken of, for he was the most 
vain of them all, a fact that the wise rabbit 
well knew, and he also knew that if anything 
was to be gotten from Mmrod, that this was 
the quickest and best way to get it, and he 
had a suspicion that Mmrod had some plan for 
ridding the woods of Black Lightning;. 

"Well," said Mmrod, at length, when he 
had admired the plumage of his wing, which 
glistened in the sunlight and greatly pleased 
him, " I suppose that the crow family is famed 
for its sagacity. It is not anything that I take 
any particular credit to myself for, but merely 
the advantage of being well born. I indeed 



THE END OF BLACK LIGHTNING. 87 

have a plan, which I will disclose if you will all 
be attentive and not interrupt me." 

n Good ! Good ! " cried all the birds and 
squirrels in chorus. "Tell us, Nimrod; tell 
us." 

The old crow gave a long caw to clear his 
throat and began. 

"Many, many years ago, long before the 
memory of any one now living, unless it is 
our friend Turtle, who lives down at the 
brookside, my great-great-grandfather lived 
in these woods, and I dare say he has perched 
many a time upon this very branch where I 
am now standing. He was a large, strong 
crow, and a fine flyer. But his greatest 
quality was his wisdom. It is often said in 
the crow family that I am like him." Here 
Nimrod paused to chuckle and admire his 
plumage. 

"Well, my great-great-grandfather took it 
into his head to travel. He wanted to know 
what was in the world and to make himself 
acquainted with all countries. So he decided 
to start out, and in order not to be flying 



88 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

around in a great circle and finally come back 
where he started from, he decided to always 
travel towards the setting sun. He thought 
that when he was ready to come back he could 
travel towards the rising sun and that would 
bring him safe back. It is a very w T ise plan 
and one that none but the crow would have 
thought of. 

"There was a great meeting- of the crows 
to wish him a fine journey and good luck, and 
he set out. For days and months he travelled 
over hills and valleys like these where we live, 
flying by day and roosting in the top of a fir- 
tree by night. This was the safest way to do ; 
besides, he did not want to travel at night, for 
he had come upon this journey to see the 
country, which he could not do at night. 

"Finally the hills and valleys ceased and the 
forest disappeared and he came to great plains 
that stretched out as far as eye could reach. 
He did not like this country as well as the 
wooded country, for it was hard to find a tree 
in which to roost at night, but there was lots 
of grain, and the plains were very fertile. By- 



THE END OF BLACK LIGHTNING. 89 

and-by he came to a great river where he 
stopped for a bath, for the water had been so 
muddy for several days that he could not 
bathe. Then he flew on greatly refreshed. 

"Then there were more plains that lasted 
for weeks and weeks, and finally they grew 
sandy and barren with nothing but sage brush 
and prickly plants. Finally, one morning when 
he had gotten very tired of the plains, he saw 
a mountain like those mountains he had known 
at home, only it was very much higher and 
was covered with snow. 

" Up, up, he mounted nearly to the sun, be- 
fore he crossed it. But there on the moun- 
tain top were pines and spruces again, and 
he felt more at home. Then he travelled for 
days over the mountains and finally dropped 
down into the land of sunshine that ends by 
the great water which there is no crossing, 
so the bird folks told him who live in the land 
of sunshine. 

" Here it was that my great-great-grand- 
father made the acquaintance of that remarkable 



90 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

bird, the Road Runner, of which I am going to 
tell you." 

The Little Foresters all looked at each other 
with great astonishment, but as they had 
promised not to interrupt Nimrod, they said 
nothing. 

* Well," continued Nimrod, "the Road Run- 
ner is one of the most remarkable birds in the 
world. I think I may say that he ranks next 
to the crow, and my ancestor found out many 
strange things from him, among others how to 
kill snakes." 

At this statement by Nimrod there was such 
a chirping and twittering in the old trysting 
tree that the crow was obliged to cease his story 
for several minutes, but when quiet had at 
last been restored, he continued. 

w The one great enemy of the Road Runner 

is the rattlesnake, who is always creeping 

about in the grass searching for the Road Run- 
es o 

ner's nest that he may devour the eggs or 
young birds ; or if he can find a young Road 
Runner in the grass where he is just learning 
to fly, he will at once fall upon him and mangle 



THE END OF BLACK LIGHTNING. 91 

him, and finally swallow him without the 
slightest regret." 

"The hateful thing," cried all the Little 
Foresters in chorus. 

w He is just like Black Lightning," said 
Cock-robin. 

"Well," continued Mmrod, ''the Koad Run- 
ner does not take his injuries quietly as we 
do, but he at once sets to work to avenge him- 
self. 

"He searches about in the grass and along 
the sunny banks by the creek until he finds 
the snake and then he follows him, never losing 
sight of him by day or night, until at last the 
snake lies down in a sunny spot to sleep, for 
all snakes are great sleepers. They all sleep 
through the winter and many of them sleep 
half the summer time as well. 

K When the Road Runner sees the rattlesnake 
fall asleep, he knows that his hour has come. 
Then he and Mrs. Road Runner set to work 
to gather the spines from the prickly pear-tree, 
which are very sharp. They have to use great 
care in gathering them or they will wound 



92 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

themselves, but they do not mind an occasional 
scratch when they think of their young dead 
birds, and the revenge that they are going to 
heap upon the snake. 

" When they have gathered a good pile of 
the spines, they go up to the sleeping snake 
very carefully and build a fence about him, 
using the spines for building material. So 
while the snake sleeps, he is all the time being 
surrounded by this terrible wall. 

"Finally their work is done, and Mr. and 
Mrs. Eoad Runner wait for the awakening of 
the snake. 

"When the snake does awake, he stretches 
himself and looks about him. To his oreat 
astonishment he finds a wall some three or 
four inches high encompassing him on every 
side, and a little distance away he sees the Road 
Runners watching him. He is very angry. 
It is their doing ; he will teach them better 
manners, and he coils himself for a spring, 
hissing and sounding his rattlers in an ominous 
way. 

"But the Road Runners do not fear him. 



THE END OF BLACK LIGHTNING. 93 

This makes hioi more angry still, and he lashes 
with his tail, which strikes something sharp, 
and the snake turns and strikes viciously at 
the pile. To his great astonishment the inno- 
cent looking sticks bite back. He strikes 
again, and a dozen sharp spines fasten in his 
head. Then great anger possesses him and he 
strikes again and again, while the Road Eun- 
ners draw back to a safe distance. Around 
and around the rattler goes, striking and 
squirming, until at last he is filled with spines 
and bleeding from a score of places. Then in 
blind fury he bites himself and dies, the victim 
of his own poison." 

" Good ! Good ! " cried all the birds and 
squirrels in chorus. 

"It serves him right," said Bob- from his 
seat at the foot of the tree. w If any one carries 
a deadly poison about as the rattlesnake does 
he is quite sure to fall a victim to it himself 
sooner or later." 

"Now," continued Nimrod, "if you will all 
stop talking, I will tell you the details of my 
plan. 



94 THE LITTLE FORESTER 1 :. 

"I want you all to do just as I tell you, and 
to remember that our success depends upon 
your carrying out my orders perfectly. 

''Firstly, we have no prickly pear-tree, and 
we will have to use something else. Secondly, 
the bite of the black snake is not poisonous 
and he cannot finish himself, so we will have 
to poison our brambles to make our plan a 
certain success. 

" I want you all to set to work gathering 
brambles. Find the sharpest and the longest 
ones that you can. Go to the blackberry, the 
raspberry, the thorn-apple, and the nettle ; and 
some of you, like friend Thresher, whom the 
law protects, can get those sharp thorns from 
the hedge up at the farmhouse. When you 
have gathered your thorns, then find the most 
deadly poisons that you know. I do not need 
to tell you what they are. You all know the 
nightshade and the poison hemlock, the ivy 
and the dogwood. Break the bark or the pulp 
of the plant or shrub with great care lest you 
get poisoned yourself, and then wet the points 
of your brambles or spines with this poison. 



THE END OF BLACK LIGHTNING. 95 

When you have once poisoned them, you must 
use the greatest care not to scratch yourself. 

cr TThen everything is read}' we will watch 
for this destroyer of our homes and our happi- 
ness, and serve him in such manner as he de- 
serves." And without further words Ximrod 
dismissed the company and they all went away, 
bent upon one errand — the destruction of Black 
Lightning. 

For several days there was great activity 
in the woods ; gathering spines and searching 
for poisonous plants occupied all of the time 
that was not spent in looking for food and at- 
tending to the young, who need a great deal 
of attention at this time of year. 

After about a week, Ximrod announced at 
the trysting tree that everything was in readi- 
ness, and told all to be on the watch for Black 
Lightning. 

For several days no one could discover him 
asleep, for he was very crafty and had kept 
the place of his napping a secret. But one 
sunny afternoon early in July, he decided to 
take his nap out in the open upon a sandbank 



96 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

that pleased hini, where he could bask in the 
warm sun and enjoy himself. If anything dis- 
turbed him he had a hole near by where he 
could go. But what could harm him? Was 
he not master of the forest? Were they not 
all afraid of him, and did they not all flee 
when he approached? 

It was with these feelings that the old black 
snake stretched out on the sandbank and went 
to sleep. 

An hour later Cock-robin, who was always 
on the watch and had a grudge of his own to 
pay off*, discovered the snake asleep and has- 
tened to tell Mmrod, who at once summoned 
the rest of the company by a signal that had 
been agreed upon. Soon they were all at work 
carrying the brambles and spines that had 
been made so deadly with poisonous sap. 
They worked with a will, and in two hours 
there was a pile of bristling points about the 
ugly black snake, and no opening on any side 
through which to escape. 

When their work had been completed, t\\ey 
sat about upon trees, and those of the company 



THE END OF BLACK LIGHTNING. 97 

who could not fly sat at a safe distance on the 
ground, for they knew that when the snake 
awoke he would be very angry, and secretly 
they were all afraid of Black Lightning. 

At last their patience was rewarded, for the 
snake began to move and then to stretch, as 
snakes are apt to do after a nap, and then he 
awoke. When he looked about at the bris- 
tling pile that surrounded him, he thought he 
was dreaming, but when he looked up in the 
trees and saw the birds and squirrels looking 
down at him, he knew that it was no dream. 
But the full peril of his situation did not at 
once appear to him. 

M Who has done this ? " he hissed, raising his 
head angrily and glaring about him. 

w We all had a hand in it," replied Mmrod 
from his perch a few feet above the snake, 
lf but I think I may say the plan was mine and 
the rest of the company helped me to carry it 
out." 

"You will all pay for it," hissed the snake, 
snapping his jaws together in a manner that 
made the smaller birds and squirrels quake. 



98 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

" I will kill an extra bird and an extra squirrel 
every day this summer to pay for this. I will 
teach you who is the stronger when I get out 
of this tangle." 

" When you get out of that tangle," repeated 
Nimrod mockingly, " we will all invite you to 
breakfast." 

At these words the snake lowered his head, 
and a feeling of uneasiness came over him, for 
he well knew the cunning of the crow, and 
feared him and the confident way in which he 
spoke. 

"Why have you done this?" he* asked at 
length, feeling that perhaps the best course 
was to parley. 

" Why have you hunted us by day and night, 
robbing our nests and eating our young?" 
asked Nimrod. 

"Partly for breakfast and partly for sport," 
said the snake. 

"We are not as cruel as you," replied Nim- 
rod ; " we have not entrapped you for sport, 
but because we had to. You have come into 
our forest like a thief, creeping upon your 




"WHO HAS DONE THIS? ,; HE HISSED. 



THE END OF BLACK LIGHTNING. 99 

belly like a sneak, robbing and killing merely 
for sport, and now that we may live and 
enjoy the forest which is ours by right, we 
have destroyed you." 

"Destroyed me," hissed the snake, snapping 
his jaws furiously ; "we will see about that," 
and he began striking at the pile of brambles 
about him. But at the first blow his head was 
filled with brambles and spines. 

Nimrod cawed derisively, and the birds 
chirped and twittered, but some of the more 
timid flew away in fright. 

Black Lightning's eyes flashed fire, and his 
tongue darted out like a flame. He writhed 
with agony, and for once lost his self-control 
and again attacked his barriers. 

Faster and faster he struck, hissing and 
snapping his jaws and all the time lashing with 
his tail. The brambles flew in every direction, 
but he was fast filling with the deadly points. 
Over and over he went, moving so fast that 
the Little Foresters could scarcely see him. 
Finally his wriggling and thrashing ceased, 

LofC. 



100 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

and then they saw him filled with the deadly 
points and swollen to twice his usual size. 

At last, after terrible convulsions, he stretched 
himself out upon the sandbank and died, an 
object too hideous to look upon. 

Then the birds and the squirrels went quietly 
away, feeling well satisfied with the success of 
Nimrod's plan and their own hard work. But 
they had no feeling of revenge in the death of 
the snake, for they had destroyed him, as Nim- 
rod had said, merely that they might live 
themselves. 



CHAPTER X. 



A TERRIBLE RIDE. 



The hawk and the weasel are rival maraud- 
ers, each carrying on his work of theft and 
murder in his own peculiar manner, and each 
doing terrible execution in field and forest. 

Of the two, I have the most respect for the 
hawk. He is more open and above board in 
his thieving and murdering, and rarely kills 
when he is not hungry, but of all the four- 
footed creatures that inhabit New England, the 
weasel is the most despicable. 

He will destroy a whole coop of chickens, by 
biting a small hole in the neck of each and 



© 



sucking their blood, when he might make his 
entire meal on one chicken. He kills two 
squirrels for every one that he eats, and all his 
other operations are carried on with the same 
cruelty and disregard for the lives of his fellow- 

101 



102 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

foresters. He is a destroyer, cruel and cun- 
ning and more to be feared by the Little For- 
esters than any other creature. 

Even his looks are enough to make one 
shudder. His long, slim body with its gliding 
movement, his restless head turned this way 
and that, his hungry eyes, all suggest cunning, 
cruelty, and daring. 

Sparrowhawk is quite as cruel, but he lacks 
the cunning of the weasel ; he always carries 
on his work of destruction openly and with a 
fearlessness that is at least not cowardly. 

Ever since the day when Redtail had mis- 
taken Sneak, the weasel, for a chipmunk, and 
had nearly caught him in the open, there had 
been war between them, although they dwelt 
so far apart there was little chance of their 
meeting. Sneak would not be caught in the 
open again, and Redtail lived so high up in 
the air that he was quite out of the domain of 
the weasel, but each kept the grudge in his 
heart and bided his time. 

It was a hot afternoon in August. The 
locust was singing shrilly in the weeds by the 



A TERRIBLE RIDE. 103 

roadside. From up in the pasture came the 
musical tinkle of a cow-bell. A light breeze 
occasionally rustled the leaves, making a pleas- 
ant sound. But when this muffled murmur 
died away, it was as still as night time. 

It was too hot for the birds to sing or the 
squirrels to chatter. In fact, the birds were 
away in the deep woods moulting and chirp- 
ing softly to themselves. Suddenly there was 
a rustle, and a few frightened "chirps" from 
Chatterbox, the chipmunk, a patter of small 
feet in the ferns, and a moment later he was 
seen running for a big maple at the top of his 
speed. A few feet behind him, gliding along 
with that easy motion, his cruel, hungry eyes 
fixed intently upon the little squirrel, was 
Sneak, the free-booter and destroyer. 

Chatterbox scurried up the tree, with the 
weasel in hot pursuit. Up, up, they went, the 
squirrel running for his life, and the weasel 
pursuing. I saw that it was hopeless for the 
squirrel, he would soon be at the top of the 
tree and at the mercy of the weasel, but I did 
not know all of the squirrel's prowess. 



104 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

Presently he stood upon the topmost branch 
of the tree, with the weasel but a few feet away. 
" Poor little fellow," I thought, and my hatred 
for Sneak doubled. But even as I looked, the 
chipmunk sprang from the limb, although it 
was fifty or sixty feet high, spread himself out 
flat like a turnover, and floated gracefully down 
through the air, landing at my feet. 

" Bravo," I cried. " Well done, little chap." 
He did not wait to hear my compliments, but 
was off running for all he was worth. He 
evidently had not seen me before and had 
been greatly frightened by landing so near 
what he supposed another enemy. 

My astonishment had scarcely left me, when 
I was treated to another surprise, for Redtail, 
the old henhawk, sailed majestically into the 
very tree that Chatterbox had just left and 
perched upon the limb that the squirrel had 
occupied. 

He did not see me under the tree, and I 
stood very still, wishing to observe him. 

He was a magnificent bird, measuring, as I 
afterwards discovered, over five feet from tip to 




WITH A WILD SCREAM THE HAWK ROSE SWIFTLY IN THE AIR, 



A TERRIBLE RIDE. 105 

tip. His plumage shone like burnished silver 
in the sunlight, and his tail was a rich deep 
red. I had forgotten all about Sneak when a 
white spot upon a limb, not over a yard from 
the hawk, reminded me of him. It was Sneak, 
without a doubt, for I could see the eager rest- 
less motion of the head, and his slim figure. 

Then to my great astonishment the slender 
form shot like a white streak through the air, 
and landed upon the back of the hawk, and the 
weasel's head was buried in the feathers of the 
great bird just where the neck joins the body. 
Then the meaning of it all flashed upon me. 
w Greek had met Greek " and the old score 
would be settled. 

With a wild scream the hawk rose swiftly 
in the air. Higher and higher it went, but I 
could see by the quick hard strokes of its wings 
the agony of the flight. 

Presently the hawk set its wings for a plunge 
downward, and made a swoop, the swiftness 
of which no other bird can equal. Almost 
down to the tree he came, but as he turned in 



106 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

the air to ascend again I could see the weasel 
still clino;ino: to his neck. 

Up, up, he went again, growing smaller 
and smaller, until he looked like a mere 
speck in the sky. I feared that I should 
lose sight of him and not see the end of this 
terrible struggle. But soon he began to de- 
scend again, and this time more rapidly than 
before, but he did not have his usual control of 
himself, his flight was ragged and uncertain. 
Once he lost the set of his wings, and went 
over and over in the air, but with a great effort 
he balanced himself and came down like a fall- 
ing star. 

When about fifty feet from the ground he 
turned over on his back and beat furiously with 
his wings, writhing and shaking himself. Then 
he flopped down upon the ground and went 
over and over. Here was Sneak's chance to 
escape from his perilous position and I thought 
he would take it. But not so ; it was to be a 
fight to the finish, and he still clung to the neck 
of the hawk with a grip like death. 

With a despairing scream the hawk rose 



A TERRIBLE RIDE. 107 

again, going almost straight up. It was to be 
his last flight, and he had determined not to 
perish alone. If death was to come it should 
come to both. 

When about forty rods up his great wings 
collapsed and without a struggle he fell to earth 
like a stone. 

I went to the spot where they had fallen, 
and there upon the ground was. the magnifi- 
cent hawk with his wings spread, and a stream 
of blood flowing from a hole in his neck that 
his enemy had made, and close beside him was 
the battered body of the weasel. 

They had fought the fight to a finish, but it 
had been a drawn battle, for both were dead. 



CHAPTER XI. 

THE GOOD GREEN WOOD. 

Whenever I pass along the city street and 
see its pale children trying to play ball or 
marbles in some vacant lot where there is 
hardly room to turn about, I always fall to 
pitying them, and to wishing that every child 
that comes into the world could spend its first 
twelve years in the country. Then no matter 
what he may do or where he may go in after 
years, he has these country memories to fall 
back on when the heart grows sick for the 
sweet green things and the sound of running 
water. 

It matters not if I am on the noisy streets of 
a great city, and the air is stifling with heat, 
for I have but to fall a-dreaming to be a boy 
once more upon the old farm. Then the rude 
rumble of the heavy teams is changed to the 

108 



THE GOOD GREEN WOOD. 109 

murmur of summer breezes in leafy tree-tops, 
and the shrill cries of newsboys become bird 
notes, exquisitely tender and joyful. I could 
shut my eyes in the most barren desert and 
smell the sweet scent of half-dead leaves drip- 
ping from an autumn rain ; or it might be the 
aromatic scent of the pine and the balsam, if 
fancy willed it. 

If I had my way, I should not only have all 
children born in the country, but would have 
them educated in its ways, and particularly in 
woodcraft. I would show them where to look 
for the arbutus and the anemone, and teach 
them to tell each wild flower or shrub from its 
neighbor, by both smell and sight. 

I would show T them where the wintergreen 
and the partridge-berry grow, and we would 
sit together upon some mossy knoll under a 
fragrant spruce and eat youngsters. 

Then as we sat there, munching and enjoy- 
ing the freshness and beauty of all things 
about us, we would learn to distinguish the 
different bird notes. 

We would learn to tell the sweet " cheery, 



110 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

cheery " of the bluebird, and not to mistake it 
for the " cheery, cheery " of the robin, which is 
louder and more abrupt. 

We would always know robin's plain w cheer- 
up, cheer-up," but his other note is quite like 
that of the bluebird. 

The chickadee we would always know by 
his one sweet little song that never varies, and 
the phcebe, too, we could not mistake, for his 
song is ever the same — just two plaintive 
notes. 

The woodpecker's short, sharp " snip, 
snip," or his queer cackle we would never for- 
get when once we had found him out ; then by 
degrees we would learn to tell all these little 
creatures by their song or their note of alarm, 
which are quite different. 

Two other birds there are that we never 
could mistake — the whip-poor-will's wild, un- 
earthly note, and the sad call of the cuckoo, 
denoting rain. He is a much better prophet 
than men think him, for his note of warning is 
always followed by storm. The quail is a 
merry fellow, whistling upon the bar-post, but 






THE QUAIL IS A MERRY FELLOW. 



THE GOOD GREEN WOOD. Ill 

he, too, is given to watching the wind and the 
weather. 

Squirrels all sound very much alike, but you 
can always tell by the chattering and scolding 
that it is a squirrel ; and then later on you will 
learn to tell the sharp bark of the red squirrel 
from the chirp of the chipmunk, who is not so 
noisy. 

Besides knowing the birds by their song 
or plumage we would know their nesting 
places and their mode of life, not to rob or 
torment them, but that we might become ac- 
quainted with these little feathered friends and 
love them. Besides the ways of the birds, we 
would come to know all the little creatures of 
the wood, and their haunts and manners and 
customs. 

From knowing the inhabitants of the woods 
it would be an easy and natural step to know 
the plants and flowers, and all the friendly 
trees that give us shade, fruit, and nuts, or if 
need be lay down their lives to keep us warm 
in the winter time. 

I would also teach my young people to know 



112 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

the points of the compass from the trees, who 
tell all observing folks which is north, so they 
never need get lost in the woods. Here are 
some of the plainest ways to tell the points of 
compass in the forest : All plant life, includ- 
ing the giant trees, love the sun and lean 
towards him for comfort and warmth. He is 
their father and friend. So if you will observe 
carefully what a woodsman calls the lean of the 
timber, you will see that the majority of the 
trees in any woods lean to the south. Then if 
you will go around to the north side of the tree, 
you will find it covered with moss, while there 
is none on the south side. What is the reason 
for this? you may ask. Moss grows in the 
shade or where the sun strikes least, and that 
would be on the north side of the trees. There 
is one more easy way of telling the points of 
compass, and many smaller signs which it is 
harder to read. 

A very old man once told me that the top- 
most point of the hemlock, as a rule, points to 
the northwest. 

Besides knowing the forest in a general way, 



THE GOOD GREEN WOOD. 113 

we should know it in detail, and where its 
treasures are, — where the first youngsters are 
found, and where the sweet arbutus first thrusts 
its fragrant flowers through last year's mold ; 
where the delicious strawberry grows along 
the sunny slopes of the pasture land and the 
first blueberries ripen. Then in midsummer we 
would take our pails and go among the pines at 
the edge of the woods for blackberries, observ- 
ing at the same time where the chestnuts hang 
the thickest and the walnuts promise well. 

In yonder thicket is a hemlock whose springy 
boughs will make the finest kind of bows, and 
this ironwood, if cut and peeled and allowed to 
season, will make a fish-pole that would do the 
heart of a boy good. 

In short, the marvels and the pleasures of 
the woods are so many that I can only mention 
a few of the most common. How well the 
poet Whittier knew these charms of nature, 
and how truly he has depicted the boy's delight 
in them in his " Barefoot Boy," to whose world 
of wonder and mystery I refer you. 



114 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

" O for boyhood's time of June, 
Crowding years in one brief moon, 
When all things I heard or saw, 
Me, their master, waited for. 
I was rich in flowers and trees, 
Humming-birds and honey bees ; 
For my sport the squirrel played, 
Plied the snouted mole his spade ; 
For my taste the blackberry cone 
Purpled over hedge and stone ; 
Laughed the brook for my delight 
Through the day and through the night, 
Whispering at the garden wall, 
Talked with me from fall to fall ; 
Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond, 
Mine the walnut slopes beyond, 
Mine on bending orchard trees, 
Apples of Hesperides. 
Still as my horizon grew, 
Larger grew my riches too ; 
All the world I saw or knew 
Seemed a complex Chinese toy 
Fashioned for a barefoot boy." 



CHAPTER XII. 

A NIGHT WITH RUFF GROUSE. 

It was Christmas eve and the great red sun 
was fast sinking behind the western hills, 
leaving a trail of fire as red as the pathway of 
a comet. 

Out of the east the shadow folk were troop- 
ing, driving the children of the sun before them 
over hill and valley and far away. It was pleas- 
ant, though, to think, as one saw the sunlight 
and gladness retreating, that away on the other 
side of the world the children of the sun were 
driving the shadow people who were fleeing in 
terror before their bright faces. 

It was bitter cold and the wind howled dis- 
mally in the tree-tops, making the great 
branches to groan and writhe, as though they 
were possessed of feeling and it hurt them to 
be so violently handled. 

115 



116 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

It seemed to Euff Grouse, as he swayed to 
and fro in the tree-top where he was getting 
his supper, that the night had never looked so 
cheerless and uninviting. The wind rocked 
him so violently that he could hardly keep his 
perch, and occasionally when it got more bois- 
terous than usual, showers of snow rattled down 
upon him. But Ruff was a hardy fellow and it 
was not these things that bothered him ; he was 
having considerable difficulty in finding his sup- 
per. Mast had not been so scarce in the whole 
course of his existence, and the buds had been 
kept back by the extreme cold so that there 
was very little nourishment in them, and beside 
all this the birch in which he was hard at work 
had been cropped by Euff and his friends and 
by two or three red squirrels, until there was 
very little supper to be had, bad as it was. 

The cold numbed his toes so that he could 
hardly hold on, and presently the wind grew so 
violent that Ruff gave up the task and flew into 
the top of a hemlock to shelter himself and get 
warm, and in the meantime to think of some 
new place to find supper. The lengthening 



A NIGHT WITH RUFF GROUSE. 117 

shadows lold him that he must be quick about 
it or else trust to the moon, which was not 
always a safe thing to do, as the moon was 
fickle, and budding by moonlight exposed one 
to the peril of being picked up by an owl, and 
Danger, the great white owl who terrorized all 
the Little Foresters, had long had his eye on 
Ruff, following him persistently. 

But cold and hunger bred recklessness in 
Ruff that night, so at last he started off on a 
hazardous enterprise, which was no more or 
less than to get his supper off a fine greening 
tree almost under the farmer's nose and within 
easy reach of the thunderstick. So he went 
sailing away over the tree-tops, flying as only 
a partridge can fly to the orchard. The pale 
white stars were just pricking through the 
steely blue sky and the night would soon 
be on. 

Presently he plumped down in the greening 
tree and fell to work on the delicious buds, 
stopping frequently, though, to listen and to 
watch every changing light and shadow about 
the house. The tree was so near the buildings 



118 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

that it had not been touched by any of Ruff's 
friends, even the saucy red squirrel had shunned 
it, and the buds were very plenty. How sweet 
they were after the dry birch buds, and how 
lucky he had been to think of it. Ruff 's crop, 
that had been so empty, was filling fast, but it 
was dangerous work, and more than once he 
stopped and was about to take wing, but lin- 
gered a minute longer to get just a few more 
buds. So intent he was on supper that he did 
not hear the shed window lifted carefully or see 
the thunderstick thrust out. But a sense of 
impending danger made him look up and he 
saw at once his peril. With a quick spring 
like the flight of an arrow he was off, flying low 
in hopes to put some friendly bush or fence 
between him and the marksman. But what 
bird, however strong of wing, can fly like the 
hailstones from the thunderstick that are pro- 
pelled by lightning. 

There was a bright flash, a deafening roar, 
and a rush of the sharp pellets about Ruff. The 
force of the charge carried him several feet out 
of his course, and at first he thought he must 



A NIGHT WITH RUFF GROUSE. 119 

fall, but with a great effort he nerved himself, 
stifled the pain, and flew on, for this was the 
only safe thing to do. When the smoke cleared 
away, the farmer saw a few feathers flying in 
the breeze, while the old partridge was sailing 
for the woods forty rods away. 

"I snuni," he growled, giving the old gun a 
shake, " ef I hain't missed him again. I believe 
this rusty ole gun would n't kill a partridge ef 
his head wuz stuck in the end on 't, the blamed 
old thing," and he shut the window with a 
bang. 

But he would have thought better of the gun 
had he seen the partridge plump down into a 
snowbank as soon as he reached the woods, 
and wriggle out of sight in the snow, leaving a 
trail of blood behind him. 

Poor Euff snuggled as far down into the snow 
as possible and then lay still, trying hard to 
forget the ache in his leg and the sharp pain in 
his wing. It was humiliating to have several 
of one's tail-feathers shot away, and the beauty 
of that splendid fan upon which he so prided 
himself for the time being spoiled, but that was 



120 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

nothing to the possibility of a broken leg or 
wing. The tail-feathers would grow again, and 
at the best they were merely ornamental, but a 
leg or a wing was quite another matter, and a 
partridge that could not fly might as well give 
up to the first fox that happened along. 

At the thought of a fox, Ruff remembered the 
blood spots that he had left upon the snow, and 
he knew that it was very dangerous for him to 
be lying where he was, with so plain a scent to 
tell of his whereabouts, so with a great effort 
he wriggled out of the snow and flew up into 
a tree-top. His wing was not broken, though 
it hurt him terribly to fly. 

But it was so cold in the tree-top that he was 
numbed in a few minutes, and the wind cut him 
like a knife. 

He never could spend the night in the tree, 
he would have to find a new spot in which to 
burrow, and be careful not to leave a scent 
upon the snow. So he picked out a spot where 
it was drifted and the snow looked soft, and 
plunged down in it with all his might. The 
force of his flight carried him in out of sight, 



A NIGHT WITH RUFF GROUSE. 121 

and the wind filled up the hole and smoothed it 
over, and no one would have guessed that a 
live partridge lay buried in the drift. 

It was quite warm down there, and Ruff would 
have been comfortable had it not been for his 
wounded leg and wing ; but the cold snow felt 
soothing to them, drawing out the fever and 
quieting the pain, so that he soon fell asleep and 
dreamed of spring and of drumming on the old 
log to call some lady partridge about and begin 
the spring courting. 

How long he slept Ruff did not know, but 
suddenly he awoke with the same sensation of 
danger that he had felt just before the farmer 
shot him. He lay very still and listened, for 
nothing is ever gained by hasty action in a 
time of danger. He could hear a sound above 
him like something digging and then an occa- 
sional sniff. 

Ruff's feathers stood up with fright and his 
eyes grew big with terror : it was Sir Reynard, 
and he was after him. 

The crafty old fox was hungry to-night. He 
had searched the laurel swamp for a rabbit, 



122 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

but having found none was on his way home 
to the spruces, when he scented the blood spots 
from Euff 's first plunge in the snow, and then 
by circling round and round, he found his 
second plunge and was now digging stealthily 
for him. 

There was one hope of escape. Ruff had 
taken the precaution to burrow several feet in 
the snow towards a shallow place ; he now 
hoped to reach this place in the drift before the 
fox reached him. He began quietly burrowing 
away from the sound of the fox's digging. He 
could not dig very fast lest the fox might hear 
him, and all the time Sir Eeynard was getting 
nearer and nearer to him. It was a fearful 
moment for Euff, but his quick wit and strong 
nerve did not forsake him. At last he could 
feel the snow giving above him, but the fox 
was almost upon him ; he could hear his eager 
sniffing and frantic digging. With a quick 
motion he brushed the snow away and with 
a whir of his wings rose in air, but he was 
not quicker than the lithe fox that sprang at 
him as he rose. There was a snap of the 




THE PARTRIDGE BROKE AWAY AND WHIRRED OVER THE TREE-TOPS. 



A NIGHT WITH RUFF GROUSE. 123 

hungry jaws and Sir Reynard's teeth closed 
upon Ruff's toes, but not strongly enough to 
hold him, and the partridge broke away and 
whirred over the tree-tops into the darkness. 

"I'll have you yet," snarled the fox, and the 
wind repeated his threat, M I '11 have you yet ; 
I'll have you yet," until it seemed to the 
partridge that the night was filled vith terror. 
He flew for several minutes and then alighted 
in the top of a spruce to consider where to 
spend the night. 

He had barely settled in the tree-top when 
he noticed a great white object in the branches 
above him, and a moment later he became 
aware of two big, yellow eyes looking hungrily 
down upon him. It was Danger, the white 
owl, the terror of the forest at night. It w r as 
lucky for Ruff that the top of the spruce was 
very thick and that there were several brushy 
limbs between him and the owl. 

"Who, who," cried Danger, startled by 
Ruff's precipitate flight into the spruce. It 
took him a moment to collect his wits, and 
then he dove for the partridge, but Ruff, real- 



124 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

izing his danger, slipped out between the 
friendly branches of the spruce and was off, 
with the owl in hot pursuit. Ordinarily Dan- 
ger would have been no match for him in 
flight, but to-night, with his crippled wing, it 
was a race for life and death, Danger having 
the advantage, as he could see better than Ruff 
by night. He flew with a steady flop, flop, the 
sound of which .made Ruff anxious, to say the 
least. But the partridge with all his native 
cunning made sudden turns to the right and 
left, and each time the owl would fly by the 
turning point, losing a few feet in the race. 

At last by turning, twisting, and dodging, 
Ruff drew away from his pursuer till he could 
no longer hear the monotonous flop, flop of his 
wings. Then he plunged into the top of an- 
other spruce to listen, and he heard the owl go 
by a few rods away, the sound of his wings 
dying away in the distance. For several min- 
utes Ruff waited in anxious suspense for the 
return of the owl ; but hearing nothing, he 
concluded that he had eluded his pursuer, which 
was the case. 



A NIGHT WITH RUFF GROUSE. 125 

He was tired and cold. The wind rocked 
the tree so violently that he could not sleep, 
even had his wounds permitted. He wondered 
whether it was better to stay in the tree-top all 
night and freeze to death, or to risk another 
dive in the snow with a chance of being picked 
up by a fox. Surely the same one that had 
disturbed him before would not do it again that 
night, for his flight from the owl had carried 
him several miles from home. 

After debating the question pro and con, 
Ruff decided that he would rather be eaten up 
at once than to freeze by degrees, so he plunged 
down into the snow, and again the friendly 
winds blew the hole full and screened him from 
all prying eyes. 

Once safely tucked in his snow bed, where 
the cold drew the pain from his wound and the 
warm blanket shielded him from the wind and 
cold, he fell asleep and slept soundly until 
morning. 

When he awoke and wriggled painfully out 
of the snow, the sun was shining brightly, and 
there was no evidence of the terrible experiences 



126 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

of the night before. Near at hand was a birch, 
upon the buds of which Ruff got a hasty 
breakfast. He then took his bearings by the 
sun and the looks of the forest, for he was 
several miles from home, and as he had come 
in the night, did not at once know what direc- 
tion to take ; but presently he rose above the 
tree-tops, and sailed away. To you and me 
there would have been very little to go by, but 
not so with Ruff. He had been born in the 
forest, and had always lived there. He knew 
all of its winding avenues and devious turnings. 
Straight away he flew to the east, and after 
half an hour's flight arrived at the old birch 
where he had tried to get his sapper the night 
before. 

Presently Bob, the old cotton-tail who lived 
in the laurel swamp near by, came hopping 
along under the spruces. 

" Hello, Ruff," he cried, as soon as he caught 
sight of the partridge. " I say, old fellow, 
what is the matter with your tail? It looks as 
though some one had mistaken you for a goose 
and had tried to pick you. But," on seeing 



A NIGHT WITH RUFF GROUSE. 127 

the partridge's woe-begone look, he said, " say, 
old chap, you have n't been shot at, have 
you?" 

Then Ruff flew down upon the snow beside 
Bob, and told him all of his experiences of the 
night before, to the great astonishment of the 
rabbit. 

M What ever possessed you to venture so 
near to the house? " asked Bob, in genuine sur- 
prise. ' r We consider you the most cautious of 
us all." 

" I was hungry," said Ruff, " and one will do 
almost anything if he is hungry." 

" Sir Reynard is a bad one," said Bob, when 
Ruff came to that portion of his story ; ~ you 
and I both owe him a grudge, and we '11 pay 
him off some day, you see if we don't ; " and 
they did. 

When Ruff had finished his story, and both 
the rabbit and the partridge had heaped vials 
of wrath upon the fox and the owl, Bob hopped 
away to tell the news to Mrs. Rabbit, and 
Ruff went into the deep woods to rest after the 
terrible exertions of the night before. 



CHAPTER XIII. 



BOBS REVENGE. 



Bob was the old cotton-tail who sat at the 
foot of the try sting tree during the morning 
and evening meetings . He was a prime favor- 
ite with the birds and squirrels, and was 
greatly respected by the other rabbits that 
lived in the community ; but most of them 
lived way back in a large swamp several miles 
from the beautiful grove that the Little For- 
esters inhabited. 

Bob's home was in the spruces down by 
the swale. It was not as swainpy as he would 
have liked, but there was a little laurel, some 
birches, and a thick growth of spruces that 
made a fine cover for a rabbit to hide in. 

Bob was a very clever rabbit and his wisdom 
and foresight were often praised among the 
birds and squirrels. 

128 



BOB'S REVENGE. 129 

He knew every old log in the forest and all 
the best places to hole, but he rarely did that 
when pursued, for it was more dangerous than 
staying outside. He preferred to stay above 
ground, dodging about in the spruces and hid- 
ing in brambles and tangles of laurel where he 
was comparatively safe from his enemies. 

He would often sit for an hour at a time 
upon the end of an old log, planning what he 
would do if certain dangers came upon him, 
and there was no part of the woods where he 
had not some hiding place or way of escape. 
As he sat upon the log with his ears cocked, 
and his bright, restless eyes looking in every 
direction, he made a very pretty picture. He 
always seemed to be either listening or looking 
for something, and with good reason, for it 
was only by keeping a strict lookout, and by 
having those tall ears always cocked, that Bob 
escaped his many enemies. Of all the small 
creatures of the woods the rabbit is the most 
beset with enemies, and his one refuge in peril 
is in his long, nimble legs. 

It may seem strange to my little reader that 



130 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

anything should want to harm so pretty a 
creature as a rabbit, but the wild animals prey 
upon one anpther, and man preys upon them 
all. 

There was Redtail, who was always on the 
lookout that he might spy Bob in the open, and 
swoop down upon him. Danger, the great 
white owl, had the same ambition as the hawk, 
but he did his thieving and killing by night in- 
stead of by day. The farmhouse cat was 
always watching for him by the path, and Sir 
Reynard, the sly fox who lived in the ledges 
over in the pasture, had sworn that the young 
foxes should sup on rabbit some night, and 
Bob was the particular cotton-tail on whom he 
had his eye. Many a brisk race for life the 
fox had given the rabbit through the spruces, 
but thus far Bob had always eluded his enemy. 

Even at night when the rabbit went to sleep 
in a hollow log or in one of the holes that he 
inhabited, he was not at all sure but that when 
he awoke he might find a weazel hanging upon 
his neck, sucking his life blood ; or men might 
come with a hound and a ferret that would 




HE WOULD SIT FOR AN HOUR AT A TIME ON AN OLD LOG. 



BOB'S REVENGE. 131 

rush into the hole and scare him forth where he 
would be caught in a bag. So was it any 
wonder that Bob's ears and nose twitched ner- 
vously and that his eyes seemed to be looking 
in all directions at once ? 

Sir Reynard and Bob had never been friends, 
and for two years past open war had existed 
between them, and this was the way it came 
about. 

Bob was getting his breakfast one morning 
upon the bark of a yellow birch when the fox 
happened along. 

" Good morning, Friend Rabbit," said the 
fox in his most gracious manner ; " may I come 
and help you gnaw that birch ? " 

" You may have it all," replied the rabbit, 
hopping to the other side of a clump of bushes 
and watching the old fox closely, for he well 
knew that foxes did not gnaw birches, and Sir 
Reynard had some other motive than to gnaw 
the birch. 

" Why do you always keep a bush between 
us? " asked the fox, trying to smile and at the 



132 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

same time not to have his teeth show ; but Bob 
could see them plainly. 

K Because your beauty dazzles me and I can- 
not bear to look upon it all at once," replied 
the rabbit. 

"Ah," said the fox, smiling in spite of him- 
self, for he was quite vain, " let me come into this 
opening so that you can get a good look at me." 
Then he stepped a little to one side that he 
might clear a low bush, and bounded towards 
the cotton-tail ; but Bob had been watching 
him and was off before the fox had made his 
second spring. He w r as no match for Sir Rey- 
nard, running in the open, but here he could 
dodge and turn, winding out and in among the 
spruces where it was hard to go ; beside, his 
hole was not far away, and all the time he was 
drawing nearer to it. Presently he shot down 
into his burrow, and Sir Reynard was left 
standing at the mouth, panting and licking his 
chops at the thought of what a good breakfast 
the rabbit would have made. 

" That was a fine run we had," said Bob, 
looking up at the fox and smiling ; " it will 



BOB'S REVENGE. 133 

start the blood and help your appetite." At 
this taunt and the thought of his empty stom- 
ach, the fox snapped his teeth together like a 
steel trap and snarled, w You had better not 
anger me too much, for we shall have a settling 
one of these days. I shall not always let you 
off so easy." 

"Little you had to do about it," retorted the 
rabbit; "I let myself off." 

" Oh, I could have caught you if I had wanted 
to," replied the fox, w but I saw that you were 
poor and thought I'd wait until you got fat." 

t? You had better not wait in these parts," 
said the rabbit ; " I heard the farmer complain- 
ing the other day that you had been catching 
his hens, and he said that your hide would be 
drying upon the barn within a week." 

"Did he?" asked the fox, feigning indiffer- 
ence ; " he will have to catch me before he can 
skin me. I do not leave my hide upon a bush 
every morning to be had for the taking. 

"I, too, heard him complaining. He said 
the rabbits had been eating his parsnips, and 
he knew the thief, and that he would come 



134 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

soon with the hound and ferret to rid the 
woods of him." 

" I wish you would take yourself away from 
my hole," said the rabbit ; " your beauty daz- 
zles me and hurts my eyes. I have no further 
use for you." 

"Nor I for you," replied the fox. "Good 
morning," and he was or>ne. A few moments 
later, Bob heard him bark a short distance 
away. It w r as very strange, for a fox rarely 
barks in the daytime. But after a moment's 
thought it was plain to the rabbit. Sir Rey- 
nard had wished him to think he had gone, and 
so had barked. He was, doubtless, at that 
very moment crouching behind the stump at 
the mouth of the hole, waiting for him to 
appear. 

Bob stayed in his hole all day and well on into 
the evening. Then he went to his front door 
to listen, and after sitting there for several min- 
utes and not hearing anything, he ventured 
forth ; but he had not taken half a dozen hops 
when he heard a noise behind him. Looking 



BOB'S REVENGE. 135 

about lie saw the fox sitting in front of his 
hole, grinning and showing a fine set of teeth. 

" Good evening, Friend Rabbit," said the 
fox in his most gracious manner ; " you see I 
think so much of you that I have been hanging 
around all day. I could not bear to leave you 
so long alone." 

The cotton-tail squatted low to the ground 
with his legs well under him, ready for a 
spring. 

"Didn't you get hungry?" he asked care- 
lessly, as though the fact that a fox was hun- 
gry was of small account to him, but he was 
quivering in every nerve . He had often thought 
of such a predicament as this and had laid his 
plans well, but now he was face to face with 
the peril he was not so sure of his speed and 
steadiness, for it was a very dangerous thing 
that he was about to do, and any deviation 
from the right path by even six inches would 
end disastrously. He had often practised the 
run. It was just fifteen jumps ahead, two 
sharp to the right and then one long jump 
through something, and that was where the 



136 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

danger lay. Bob did not wait for the fox to 
make the first move, for his nerve was 2'ettino; 
unsteady, but with a sudden movement quick 
as a flash he bounded away with the fox after 
him only two jumps behind and gaining a 
little at each jump. By the time they reached 
the little spruce, half of the distance between 
them had been gained by the fox. He was 
sure of his supper this time. Then the rabbit 
gave two quick jumps to the right. Here there 
were alder bushes and it was a little dark, but 
Sir Reynard's jaws were almost upon him. 
Then Bob cleared a low alder bush with the 
fox barely six feet behind him, but midway in 
the bush the fox stopped and was hurled back 
as though by an unseen hand. 

There was a half-stifled howl of pain from 
Sir Reynard as he lay quivering upon the grass 
with the blood streaming down his face from 
an ugly gash in the forehead. It was several 
moments before he knew quite what had hap- 
pened, but when he finally aroused himself the 
rabbit was gone, and peering cautiously into 



BOB'S REVENGE. 137 

the bush from which he had just been so vio- 
lently flung, he discovered a barbed wire fence. 

Then he knew how completely he had been 
trapped by the cotton-tail, and from that hour 
he laid plans for Bob's destruction, and never 
by night or day did he lose sight of his pur- 
pose. 

If it had not been for the birds and the 
squirrels, all of whom loved Bob and hated Sir 
Reynard, it is very probable that the rabbit 
would have fallen prey to some one of the 
many devices that the crafty old fox employed 
to catch him. But these little friends were 
always on the lookout for Bob, and if they spied 
the fox lying in wait for him they always 
warned him. 

Every morning Cock-robin would fly over to 
Bob's hole. He would always go early, be- 
fore breakfast, that he might warn the rabbit 
if Sir Reynard was waiting for him behind the 
stump. 

Bob would come cautiously up to the mouth 
of his hole, Cock-robin would be sitting upon 
the top of a birch a few rods away, and if he 



138 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

said, " Cheeiy, cheery," Bob would know that 
the coast was clear and come hopping out. 
But if Cock-robin gave his note of alarm, "Quit, 
quit, quit," Bob would know that the fox was 
waiting for him, and go back for another nap. 
Sir Reynard would glare up savagely at the 
robin w r hen he heard him give the warning 
note, but the bird was well out of his way and 
did not fear him ; although he did fear that the 
fox might find a young robin by the path some 
day and eat it up for revenge. But this he 
would do anyway, so it did not matter. 

Thus the days went on, with Sir Reynard 
planning trick after trick, and Bob dodging and 
avoiding his traps as best he might. But this 
being always hunted and feeling that he must 
not be off his guard for even a moment, began 
to tell on the cotton-taiL He got nervous, 
grew poor, and was very wild, so that some- 
times even his friends could not get near him 
to speak a word of encouragement. But w T ith 
each day's failure, Sir Reynard's wrath grew 
and he redoubled his efforts. His temper was 
not improved by having Mrs. Fox laugh and 



BOB'S REVENGE. 139 

poke fun at him, saying that his cunning had 
forsaken him when a cotton-tail could outwit 
him. 

At last growing desperate with being hunted 
so long, Bob decided to take matters into his 
own hands and try a little stratagem himself. 
This conclusion was greatly strengthened by 
his finding something in the path one day that 
he thought might aid him in carrying out his 
plan. It was not skilfully placed, but Bob at 
once told his friends, that they might be on 
their guard. At the same time he took Cock- 
robin and several other birds into his confi- 
dence and they covered this something that 
Bob had found with leaves, making it look as 
though the leaves had fallen from a bare limb 
just above the path. 

Bob then adopted a new mode of life. He 
got up very early every morning, while the 
stars were still shining, and went forth into the 
woods. He would then make a circuit of the 
spruces, taking care to leave a good trail in the 
dew, and finally come around to the place where 
he had buried something in the leaves, when 



140 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

he would run, and with a great spring, jump 
over the spot where the leaves had fallen so 
thickly on the ground. Then he would make 
a circuit of the maple grove, coming back and 
jumping over exactly the same spot again, 
after which he would take a short turn down 
the road and another into the pasture ; but this 
was Sir Reynard's domain, so he went very 
cautiously, pausing every few moments to 
listen, take bearings, and see where he could 
fly to if pursued. Here he always kept in the 
shadow of a bush and near cover. Some of 
the birds and squirrels who saw him on these 
morning runs warned him against leaving so 
many fresh tracks in the morning dew. Bob 
only chuckled at their warnings and went on 
his way, hopping carefully along, always keep- 
ing his wits about him. 

Sir Reynard at once noticed the fresh tracks 
in the wet grass, and smiled a broad smile, for 
he thought that his enemy was getting careless 
and felt sure that his patience would soon be 
rewarded by a rabbit breakfast. 

Finding the fresh rabbit tracks for several 



BOB'S REVENGE. 141 

days in succession, Sir Reynard decided to be 
up the next morning betimes, and lay in wait 
for the unwary cotton-tail. 

So the next morning he arose before day- 
break. "Where are you going so early?" 
asked Mrs. Fox. 

M I am going to have one more try at that 
old bobtai], and unless I am mistaken you and 
the children will dine on rabbit to-day ; " so he 
set off through the woods with a light heart and 
with great assurance. 

When he came to the edge of the maple 
grove he sniffed the air cautiously. There 
was the scent of rabbit not far away. Pres- 
ently he struck the track. It was very fresh, — 
his enemy was not a dozen rods away ; so Sir 
Reynard followed the trail boldly and swiftly, 
feeling that his hour of triumph was near at 
hand. A few rods further on he caught sight 
of the cotton-tail hopping leisurely along, and 
he quickened his pace, but was careful to go 
very quietly. So keeping close to the ground 
and stepping as light as a cat, he crept swiftly 
on. Then he heard a little note of alarm from a 



142 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

brown bird in the thicket, but he did not mind 
it. Browny had seen him and called down to 
Bob of his coming, but the rabbit did not hurry, 
for he was near to the spot where he always 
made the big jump. He was playing a game 
of life and death and understood the risk that 
he ran. 

Presently he heard a twig snap in the thicket 
not more than three rods away. Then he knew 
that he must be moving, so he hopped quickly 
to the spot where the dead leaves lay thickly 
upon the ground, gave his long spring, hopped 
into some small spruces and squatted. 

Sir Eeynard caught sight of him through the 
thicket as he made the big jump. " Ah, ha, 
my fine fellow," he thought, "you are playing 
leap frog, and little you know of my where- 
abouts, but I will teach you." He hoped to 
catch the rabbit at his play and take him before 
he knew what had happened. There was no 
need of caution, now was the time to act 
boldly, so he moved swiftly into the open, 
going with head up, following by body scent 
and not sniffing the track. Had he been less 



BOB'S REVENGE. 143 

reckless and kept his nose to the trail he might 
have scented danger. Along the path he came 
to the place where the ground was strewn with 
leaves, but he scented something in the thicket 
just beyond, his nostrils dilated, and his yellow 
eyes gleamed with a terrible fire. 

Suddenly he sprang into the air with a half- 
stifled yelp of pain. There was a rustle in the 
leaves, the rattle of a chain, and Sir Eeynard 
was snapping and biting furiously at a trap 
which was firmly fastened upon his forepaw, 
just above the joint. 

At first he thought to soon wrench himself 
free, but the jaws of the trap set tighter and 
tighter as he struggled. Then the horror of 
the situation came upon him and he lay down 
in the leaves trembling and whining. Then a 
rustle in the thicket caught his attention and 
he looked up to see old Bob squatting under 
the spruces looking at him. 

" Ah, this is your doing, villain," he snarled, 
shaking his aching paw and glaring at the rab- 
bit with a wild fury in his cruel, yellow eyes. 
"Let me but get this hateful trap off my paw 



144 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

and I will strew your white fur all over the 
woods." 

"When you get that trap off your paw," 
repeated Bob w T ith great coolness, " I will not 
mind your doing it. But I do not expect you 
wdll get off. 

" You and I have long had an account to 
settle, and now we will settle it. I did not 
bear you any ill will at first, and would not 
have harmed you in this way had you not 
hunted me night and day, and made my life a 
burden. What I have done, I have done in 
self-defence, so your blood is upon your own 
head." 

"You have ruined me," snarled Sir Reynard, 
snapping at the trap and glaring at Bob. "Mrs. 
Fox and the children will avenge my death." 

" On the contrary they will know nothing 
about it," said Bob ; "they will simply discover 
your hide upon the shed up at the farmhouse, 
and conclude you were killed with the thunder- 
stick, as will be the case, for even now I hear 
the farmer coming." 

Sir Reynard saw that Bob had spoken truly, 



BOB'S REVENGE. 145 

for while he was still speaking Grip's sharp 
bark rang out, and they could hear the farmer 
calling him to heel. 

"Good-by," said the rabbit; "it is nothing 
that I could help. I simply had to save my- 
self," and he hopped away through the thicket. 

A few moments later the terrible roar of the 
thunderstick rang out on the morning air, 
and Bob knew that his enemy was dead, and 
that now he could again enjoy the sweet fields 
and the green woods as he had done in the 
good old days before Sir Reynard came his 
way. 



CHAPTER XIV. 



THE LAST MEETING. 



Summer had come and gone, and with it 
the flowers and fruit that are a part of that 
delightful season. The delicious autumn, too, 
was nearly spent, and a feeling of wistfulness 
was on all the Little Foresters, a longing for 
the joy that had gone, and a wish that they 
might in some way turn back the "wheel of 
time" and live those delightful days over 
again. 

Birds that had been fledglings in May and 
June were now as large as their parents, fly- 
ing about with all the importance of grown-ups. 
Squirrels that had been bits of fuzz when the 
summer came, now frisked in the branches of 
the trees and scolded and chattered away in a 
manner that made the woods ring, and their 
parents very proud of them. 

146 



THE LAST MEETING. 147 

October had come and gone, the nuts had 
fallen^ and the winter's store had been laid up. 
It was nearing the time of separation, when 
the birds, the squirrels, and the rabbits would 
hold the last meeting of the season at the old 
trysting tree where farewells were said, for 
some would fly away to their winter homes, 
while others would go into the deep woods or 
den up for the winter. 

They had become such good friends during 
the summer days that it was always hard to 
part in the autumn ; besides, no one could tell 
what might happen before they met again. 

The night of the fifteenth of November was 
very cold, and when the Little Foresters awoke 
upon the sixteenth, they discovered that there 
had been a light flurry of snow during the 
night, and that settled it as far as most of 
them were concerned. When the sun rose 
over the eastern hills Nimrod came flying to 
the trysting tree, sounding the call for the last 
meeting. 

At the sound of Nimrod' s familiar call the 
Little Foresters came flying, running, and 



148 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

jumping to the try sting tree, for all knew that 
it was to be the last meeting, and none wished 
to be late. 

But all did not respond to the call, for some 
had already said " Farewell " and started South. 
Even a month ago blithe Bobolink had said 
" Good-by," and had flown away to the rice 
fields of the Carolinas. It was sad to have him 
go, and all the other birds missed the wonder- 
ful song that he always poured out so un- 
stintingly. What a gay fellow he was, so 
good natured and ready to look upon the 
bright side of life, and always singing. 

Scarlet Tanager and Oriole, two more sweet 
singers, had also said good-by to stern New 
England and flown away to Maryland or Vir- 
ginia, I know not which, for sometimes they 
wintered in one place and sometimes in the 
other, and this particular year they did not 
tell where they were going. 

But Cock-robin was still here, and when the 
sun was warm he poured out such a flood of 
melody that one would have thought that sum- 
mer was just coming in instead of going out. 



THE LAST MEETING. 149 

This morning he brought quite a flock of his 
fellow robins, who had come in the night be- 
fore from the North, and who were all going 
southward as fast as their wings could carry 
them, 

" Friends," said Nimrod, when all had as- 
sembled, and beaks and noses had been 
counted, " we are assembled for the last 
time this year, and as chairman of this com- 
pany, and one in whom I think I may say you 
all have confidence," here Nimrod stopped to 
admire the glitter of his wing in the sunlight, 
and all the birds and squirrels cried, " Yes, 
yes ; go on, Nimrod." 

"As chairman of this company," repeated 
the old crow, " I shall in a few brief words 
sum up the summer's work, count over those 
things for which we ought to be truly grate- 
ful, and say a word of farewell to you all. 
But before I say these words I am going to tell 
you of a discovery I made the other day. It 
is something that concerns us all." 

"Nimrod is always making discoveries," said 
Cock-robin. "What is it, Nimrod?" 



150 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

"Well," continued the crow, "you know we 
have not seen Danger, 'the big white owl, for 
several days. We used to see hirn often 
enough, and always when we did not want to, 
but of late I think no one has seen him. Well, 
night before last I was awakened from a sound 
sleep by hearing him hoot. There is no mis- 
taking his hoot, for no other owl makes such 
hideous noises. 

"I kept very still and listened, and could not 
locate the sound for a long time, but finally I 
decided it came from up towards the farm- 
house. I thought it very strange, but went to 
sleep and dreamed upon it. 

M The next morning I saw all of the people 
at the farmhouse go off down the road, and 
when they were out of sight I flew up and 
looked about. For a long time I could dis- 
cover nothing out of the ordinary, but pres- 
ently I saw a cage swinging in the big elm, and 
inside, winking and blinking with his two yel- 
low eyes, was Danger, the great white owl, the 
terror of the woods. I was so astonished that 
I nearly fell off the limb of the tree upon which 




■JIMUtSdfflMD 



HE CLUTCHED THE BARS FIERCELY WITH HIS CLAWS. 



THE LAST MEETING. 151 

I was sitting, but, of course, Danger did not 
see me, as it was broad daylight. 

w After watching him for a while I gave a 
derisive caw. 'Who, who,' asked Danger, 
looking up, but he could not see me, for the 
sun was very bright. ? Who, who,' he re- 
peated, winking harder than ever, and trying 
to get a glimpse of me with his big yellow 
eyes. 

" f It is your friend Mmrod,' I said, going 
close to the cage. f What a fine house you have 
here ; when did you move in ? ' 

" f Friend Nimrod,' he screeched, coming up 
to the bars and clutching them fiercely with 
his claws. "You are no friend of mine. I 
would like to wring your silly neck, but it would 
not be worth my while ; you are a noisy fool, 
but not worth killing.' Then he went to sleep 
on his perch and I could not get another word 
out of him, so finally flew away and left him in 
his gilded cage. It is a good place for him, 
and I trust that he has done the last of his 
thieving in these woods. He is too handsome 
for them to ever let him go, and when they tire 



152 THE LITTLE FORESTERS, 

of his silly hooting and blinking they will stuff 
him, and he will look as wise as ever and be 
quite as useful." 

" Good, good," cried all the Little Foresters. 
w We shall not have to fear him any more." 

w No, he will not trouble us any more," said 
Nimrod ; " and I think, my friends, that on the 
whole we have a great deal to be thankful for 
and a very pleasant year to look forward to. 

" You will remember how Redtail and Sneak, 
our two worst enemies, perished together in 
that last desperate struggle. Our friend Bob, 
who sits at the foot of this tree, disposed of Sir 
Reynard for us in a very clever manner. I 
myself planned the destruction of Black Light- 
ning, although you all helped me bravely. 
Now that many of our enemies are dead, the 
forest that is our home will be freer, greener, 
and pleasant er than ever. 

" Now as the sun is o-ettins: hi^h and I know 
that many of you are anxious to be off, let me 
wish you all a pleasant winter, and a safe return 
to the green hills and the peaceful valleys that 
we love so well, and this is my advice to you : 



THE LAST MEETING. 153 

Remember your wits, never leave them behind, 
for you may need them when you least expect, 
for shot fly faster than birds, and man is very 
cunning. Good-by, my friends, good-by." 

w Hi-ho for the Cumberland mountains," 
cried Cock-robin, leading his friends in a swift 
flight across the meadows. 

"Jersey is the place for me," cried the 
brown thresher, following Cock^robin's lead. 

" I '11 build me a nest in a cave by the sea on 
the coast of Virginia," twittered the barnswal- 
low, and he skimmed away over the fields, fly- 
ing just above the stubble. 

"Wheh, wheh," piped the jay, "what is 
their hurry ? I shall stay on until the corn is 
in, and then I guess Long; Island is good enough 
for me. If you don't get too far South you 
don't have so far to fly back." 

" Good-by," sang the bluebird, in his pleas- 
ant " cheery, cheery." "I know a river called 
the Shenandoah where the fields are ever green 
and the sun is always shining. I '11 away to 
the valley of the Shenandoah." 

" Well, Chip," said Nimrod to the little squir- 



154 THE LITTLE FORESTERS. 

rel as he frisked down the old oak, " I don't see 
but you and I and a few friends will have the 
forest all to ourselves this winter." 

" Oh, no," cried several voices. " I shall al- 
ways be here," said Ruff Grouse from a thicket 
near by. ?r And I," tapped the woodpecker 
from a dead limb. "I may stay myself for a 
time," piped the jay. 

" Chick-er-dee, dee, dee," came from the 
thicket ; w Chicker-dee-dee-dee, I shall be here, 
and so will Snowbird and Grosbeak and you, 
yourself, Nimrod ; you will not desert us." 

w No," said the old crow, "I shall not desert 
you. I'll stay in the deep woods and you will 
occasionally see me when the weather is fine, 
but it made me feel lonesome for a moment, 
having them all fly away ; but I see that we 
shall still be a goodly company to hold the 
woods for them until they all come back." 

With these words he flew away to the corn- 
field where there were still some kernels to be 
found upon the ground for his breakfast. The 
old trysting tree was vacant, no sound was 
heard in its branches, save the sighing and 



THE LAST MEETING. 155 

moaning of the cold November wind and the 
rustle of withered leaves. 

Gone were the birds and the squirrels, gone 
were the leaves and the acorns, and the only 
thing to do was to wait patiently for that first 
sweet whisper of springtime. 



